


Understanding

by TheKnittingLady



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:24:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 41,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingLady/pseuds/TheKnittingLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Unsub from Spencer's past pushes him one step too far.  An old friend of the team offers to help.  Can Spencer finally find what he has been missing all this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**Part 1** _

_Let us sacrifice our today so that our children can have a better tomorrow._

_A. P. J. Abdul Kalam_

* * *

 

**.**

* * *

**Chapter 01**  
**T-minus 8**

It was one of the more terrifying days in a life of terrifying days.

On the morning of the first day JJ Jareau was driving her son Henry to summer camp. She was thirty weeks pregnant, well past the point of hiding the bump. She had six weeks before she was grounded, nine before she planned to go out on maternity. Assuming Michael lasted that long, Henry had come about three weeks early. But he had also been perfectly healthy, so it was entirely likely that she and Will just couldn't count. According to the email she'd received this morning Michael was starting to grow fingernails, his brain was starting to develop wrinkles, and he was producing his own red blood cells, or would be sometime this week. And they were on stand down this week, which meant she wouldn't have to try to eat cop food with the wicked heartburn she'd been dealing with. Life was about as good as it was going to get. "So what's on tap for today?" She asked her son.

"Lego light sabers!" Henry replied.

"Awesome!" Yep, life was good. Until they stopped at a red light. And she heard her back doors unlock. "What the..."

Before she could think two men in ski masks piled in to the back seat of the car. JJ's heart started pounding triple time as the one behind Henry pointed a gun at her son's head. "You will drive." He said with a thick accent.

Okay, she thought, keep calm, follow directions, try to figure out what they want. "Okay." She replied.  
"Do you want me to run the light?"

"No. Do not draw attention." The one pointing the gun said. "If you do..."

"All right."

"Mom?" Henry asked.

"It's going to be okay." She said reassuringly. They were hiding their faces and didn't want her to draw attention. That meant that they planned on letting one or both of them go alive. The light changed and she started driving. "If you want money..."

"No talking."

"All right."

The other man gave directions in the same accent. Otherwise they did not speak. He took them into a residential neighborhood, one she was not familiar with, and then up to what looked like a school that was in summer secession. They stopped a couple of blocks away. The man with the gun reached over and opened Henry's door. "Get out." He said. "You see the school? Go there. You will be safe."

"Mom?" Henry asked.

"He's right." JJ said. There was a crossing guard less than a block away, one helping kids Henry's age across the street. "Go call your father and Uncle Hotch."

"Yes." The man in the back repeated. "Go call your father and Uncle Hotch." Henry looked back wide eyed, but pushed open the door and ran to the crossing guard. "Now you will drive." The man said.

"Wait." JJ watched as Henry ran up to the crossing guard. He was safe at least.

"Drive!"

The crossing guard was turning to look at her car. "You're not going to shoot me." JJ said.

"No." The man replied. He put his gun away and pulled out a tazer. He showed her the spark between the pins, then reached around and pressed them against the bulge in her belly. "Drive." He said again.

The taser wouldn't kill her, JJ knew, but she had no idea what the shock would do to Michael. "All right." She said. As she put the car in gear she watched the crossing guard lift her radio. At the same time she lifted her phone and took some pictures of the car. All right, JJ thought. That's something. She pulled away knowing that the team was not far behind.

They drove for a while again, this time landing in an industrial area, one very quiet. They had her pull over and park. "Lean forward." The leader said, as he pressed the tazer to her skin. "Put your hands through the wheel."

JJ threaded her hands through the steering wheel, making it impossible for her to quickly reach for any weapon. In the meantime the second man jumped out and quickly disarmed her. With the tazer right on her skin she had no choice but to let them pull her hands behind her and put her in cuffs. Then they pulled her out of the car as a van pulled up. The driver and another man were also wearing ski masks. Nice traditional kidnapping, she thought as they pulled a bag over her head and put her in the back of the van.

They drove forever, from the feel of the car out of the city and on to the interstate and then off it again. At least long enough for her bladder to start to complain, and then start to ache, and then start to be a real problem. Long enough for the heartburn to become an issue as well. At least she could feel Michael moving in there, twisting and kicking in a way that was reassuring. As long as he's all right, she thought. As long as my baby is all right.

Eventually they slowed in a way that said more than a stoplight. She heard a door roll up and then the echo of them pulling into a garage. When the van stopped they pulled her out and frog marched her somewhere. It was cool in here, and their footsteps echoed. She heard doors opening and closing for them. After a few turns they entered a space where sounds were muffled, smaller and with carpeting. They stopped, the cuffs came off, but before she could react she was pushed off her feet. She instinctively turned to protect her belly but she landed on something soft and resilient. As she pulled the bag off of her head she heard the lock snick behind her.

* * *

.

* * *

Set between seasons 11 and 12 and I believe cannon to that point.

My brain vomited the first 20 chapters of this up a week or so ago, and broke a nasty case of writers block.  Yes, I am still finishing everything.  And with this out of the way it seems I can.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 02**   
**T-minus 8**

JJ ripped the hood off her head and turned in the direction of the door. It was a pocket door, the kind that slipped into a space in the wall and disappeared when open. Sure enough, it was locked. Crap. She reached in her pocked and pulled out her phone. No signal. Of course.

Okay, where was she? And what did she have to work with?

She was in a room that looked a lot like a dorm room. At the entrance end there were two small, open closets, one on either side. A quick looked revealed a spare set of bedding, lots of spare pillows and some hangers. On the other side of the closets were two beds, neatly made, of the same sort of chunky wood furniture you would expect of a dorm room. They even looked like extra-long twins. At the foot of each bed was an open doorway. Against the far wall were two chests of drawers, and in between a vanity desk with a mirror and a chair and a small case on top. Inside the case was a pair of glasses, extra-nerdy style. Huh. She went and looked in the doors and found two bathrooms, plain and clean, with standing showers and extra towels under the sinks. No windows, of course. And also no privacy. Great.

She'd seen worse prisons. After looking over everything there was nothing else for JJ to do but use said bathroom and then sit and wait. According to her watch it had been just about ninety minutes since they'd dropped Henry off, by now the team was on the case. It was surely just a matter of time.

After about ten minutes more the room door clicked and slid into the pocket.

JJ went over and cautiously looked. Beyond it was a large space set up as a living area. There were ample places to hide but these men had shown no indication of being the hide and jump out type. And what could she do if they did anyway?

They had walked straight in to this room, no turning, so she hurried to the closed door directly across from the one she was in. Unlike the wooden bedroom door this one was steel, and very securely locked. Above it was a light panel, currently glowing red. She had no idea what that meant.

When she turned to look back in the room she spotted the body lying on the floor. "Spence." She hurried over to the familiar form. Thankfully he was breathing, and his pulse was reassuringly steady. Resting on his chest was a note:

_Sedation administered: 0735_   
_Expected duration: 4 hours_

If that was the case then he was picked up about the time she was, and they had about two hours before he woke up. But why sedate him and not her? Because she was easier to control, she had Henry and Michael to worry about. They likely had to jump him somehow. Okay.

She fetched a pillow and put it under his head. As she went she noticed her work tote, his satchel, and their go-bags by the door. They looked like they had been riffled through, but the only thing missing from hers was her backup weapon. No surprise there.

Okay, time to check out the prison. Call the wall with the locked entry door the north wall. The door was in the north-east corner. On the east wall was a desk set up, a bookcase with lots of books she didn't have a hope of understanding, a desk fitted out with the usual supplies, and a computer. Where there was a computer there was a Penelope Garcia so she started it booting up. The bedroom door was on the south wall, in the south-east corner. In the center of the south wall was a good sized TV and entertainment center. In front of it was a comfortable seating area, couch, chairs, decently lit. The coffee table held games of all kinds, and some bins in the area held items for other hobbies. Kind of plush for a prison. At least they wouldn't get bored.

On the far side, south wall, south-west corner was another open doorway. She flipped on the light and looked inside. It was a small medical room, a table with stirrups, various machines, and a counter on the far side that looked set up for lab work. JJ didn't go poking around; it was more than a little unnerving. She placed a protective hand over her bulging belly and shut off the light.

West wall, south-west corner also held an open doorway. Past that was a well-fitted out workout room, weights, mats, a treadmill and stationary cycle. In the corner was a large lamp of some kind. Okay, this was a very plush prison.

Past the door was another desk set up. JJ didn't stop to look at the books, but she did nudge the computer. This one was booted up already so she sat down. In the center of the very empty desktop was a note:

_Internet available 1805 to 1815 daily_   
_Also available 0955 to 1000 on Day 1_   
_See binder for more information_

If you assumed this was day one then the net should be up in three minutes. And this computer had Skype. Sweet!

JJ waited and as soon as the net became available she called up the office. It picked up right in the conference room. "Oh my god!" Penelope cried.

"Trace this line!" JJ said. "The Unsub said I only have ten minutes of internet."

"Going! Going!" Penelope said as she started to work.

Thank heaven Will was there. "You all right Jayge?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She said. "They didn't lay a hand on me, I swear. Michael feels fine too. Is Henry all right?"

"Yeah, just shaken up. He's in Hotch's office."

"Tell him I'm okay and I love him."

"We're recording this." Hotch said. That was good; Henry would hear it from her. "JJ, have you seen Reid?"

"Yes, he's here. They sedated him." She lifted the small camera and turned it so they could see where Spence was lying. "If the note they left is accurate he's due to come out of it in about ninety minutes. There was also a note saying we would get internet access from six-oh-five to six-fifteen nightly."

"That's a counter measure." Dave said. "It makes it harder to trace. How long were you in the car?"

They did a cognitive over everything that had happened. The team quickly came to the same conclusion she had. "They intend to let you go." Morgan said. "They don't intend to kill you."

"I know." JJ replied. "But based on this set up they intend to hold us for a while."

"Yeah, but why?" Dave asked.

"We don't have enough information." Hotch said. "Keep trying, we'll keep working from this end."

"I know." She had less than a minute left. "Will, I love you!"

"I love you too Jayge." He replied.

She would have said something more but the internet cut off. She looked at the clock, precisely 10am. The Unsub was keeping to his word, that was something to know.

Okay, Spence was still snoring. She had eight hours before she could call the office again. Now what about this binder? She turned to look at the rest of the room. In the west wall, just clockwise past this desk, was another doorway. It led to a well-stocked storeroom, spare clothes that looked to have come from the thrift shop, washer and dryer, dry goods to last for a while, even a very full chest freezer. Just past that, taking up the north-west corner and most of the north wall, was a kitchen area. It had all the essentials, right down to the coffee maker and well-stocked fridge. And in the west wall, next to the door to the storeroom, was a dumbwaiter. Likely the Unsub could use that to send down perishables.

In the middle of the kitchen table there was a thick binder.

JJ sat and pulled it over. It was broken down into sections. Most of them looked like instructions manuals, for everything from the kitchen appliances to the electronics in the entertainment area to information on the appliances in the clinic room. Apparently there was everything they would need to monitor her pregnancy in there. But it was the first section that caught her eye.

She was still considering the implications of that section when Spencer Reid groaned, sat up, and rubbed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03  
**

**T-minus 8**

At precisely 6:05 the internet connection fired up. JJ immediately dialed the team. "JJ." Hotch said, "Where's Reid?"

"In with the Unsub." She replied. "He's timed this to isolate Spence."

"You think this is about him?" Dave asked.

"Yes. Every indication is that he doesn't want to harm me or Michael. Who is fine, by the way. We checked. The Unsub left everything we needed."

"So why are you there?" Morgan asked.

"According to the note the Unsub left if Spence doesn't cooperate he will harm Michael through me."

"That's the carrot and the stick." Dave said. "Do what I want and your godchild remains unharmed. Don't do what I want and your godchild will be hurt."

"Yeah." JJ agreed. "This whole thing was planned around him. The Unsub even had a pair of glasses here for him; he took his spares and his contacts."

"But what does the Unsub want?" Morgan asked.

"We don't know yet." JJ said. "Hopefully Spence is finding out now. This is the note he left.

 _At 1800 daily the door will open. Dr. Reid alone will follow the lights to another room._  
Once there he will follow all directions.  
Should he not leave the living quarters or choose not to follow directions sedation gas will be released into the living quarters.  
Agent Jareau will then be made to carry out the directions Dr. Reid chose to avoid.  
_

 _Send all requests up in the dumbwaiter._  
Reasonable requests will be fulfilled.  
Release date:

"That's two weeks before my due date." She said. "Spence doesn't want to risk defying the Unsub because we don't know what this gas would do to the baby. Have you traced us yet?"

"No." Penelope replied. "This Unsub is crazy good. I cannot trace you in ten minutes. He's using onion routing; the FBI has been trying to break that for years now. But we are not giving up."

"Damn it!" JJ said. "That is the only communication we've had with this guy."

"Kidnappers who hide their identity suggest that he's doesn't intend to kill you." Hotch said. "Any idea what his end game is?"

"No. Only that end date, assuming he honors it." JJ replied. "I guess he believes he can get what he wants from Spence by then."

They talked for a few minutes more, going at it from every angle, but in the end there was nothing JJ could do but send her love to Henry and say good night to Will. At precisely 6:15 the connection was cut.

Fifteen minutes later Spencer returned. "That was strange." He said.

"What happened?" JJ went to the pot of tea that was keeping warm under a cozy and poured him a cup.

"Physically, nothing." Spencer accepted the cup with a murmur of thanks as they sat at the table. "We appear to be in an abandoned factory complex. Outside of this door is a concrete hallway, high ceiling, industrial lighting, locked doors on either side. A little way down is another door with a light. Inside was a room with doorways off to either side. I couldn't see what was in them. The main room was all concrete, clearly lit, with a table and chair in the middle of the room. I saw a number of cameras so I assume the Unsub was observing me."

"What did he do?" JJ asked.

"There was a computer monitor on the table, with a note on it to sit. So I did. I sat for ten minutes and then another note opened with instructions to start reading aloud. Poetry. I read a poem and then I sat until he instructed me to return here."

"Poetry?" JJ asked.

"Poetry. Specifically from _The Passionate Shepherd to His Love_ by Christopher Marlowe."

"I haven't heard of that one."

"Come live with me and be my love,  
And we will all the pleasures prove  
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,  
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,  
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,  
By shallow rivers to whose falls  
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses  
And a thousand fragrant posies,  
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle  
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool  
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,  
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,  
With bucklets of the purest gold.

A belt of straw and ivy buds,  
With coral clasps and amber studs:  
And if these pleasures may thee move,  
Come live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing  
for thy delight each May morning:  
If these delights thy mind may move,  
Then live with me and be my love."

Spencer recited.

JJ gaped at him for a long moment. "He had you reading romantic poetry?"

"Yeah." Spencer nodded. "Physically I'm fine. Intellectually I don't have much to contribute. Emotionally I have to admit I found this remarkably disquieting."

"No kidding. So what do we do now?"

Spencer considered this. "We don't have enough for a profile yet. I guess watch a movie."

* * *

 

**Day 02**

**BAU Headquarters**  
Quantico, VA  
T-minus 7

Aaron Hotchner was not a happy man.

Two of his agents were missing. They had next to nothing for a profile. The evidence they had collected from the crossing guard's pictures and the abandoned family car lead them nowhere. And while the tech people were trying their best it wasn't helping. They had nothing to work with except what JJ and Reid could feed them.

At 6:06 the video conference line rang. Penelope opened it on the first ring. There was JJ, looking as calm and healthy as ever. "JJ." He said. "How are you feeling?" Priorities.

"I'm fine." She said. "Michael is fine. I still haven't seen the Unsub."

Right. "What about Reid?"

"He's fine. Uninjured, he still hasn't seen the Unsub either. He thinks the Unsub was observing him based on the cameras in the room. He had him..."

Just then the door behind JJ rolled open and a somewhat frantic looking Spencer Reid appeared. "JJ, I am so sorry..."

Then the connection cut out.

"Son of a bitch!" Morgan said.

"Can you get them back?" Hotch asked.

"No!" Penelope wailed. "I'm trying! I'm trying! Noooooo! Damn it!"

"It's all right." No one knew just how deep his temper ran, but Hotch had learned self control a long time ago. Now it was his job to keep everyone else calm. "Just keep trying."

Thankfully Dave already was calm. "Spencer would never have defied the Unsub and risked JJ and the baby." He said. "What do you think happened?"

"I have no idea." Hotch replied. "Hopefully we'll find out tomorrow night."

* * *

 

**Day 03**

**BAU Headquarters**  
Quantico, VA  
T-minus 6

The next night 6:05 came and went

And 6:06.

6:07

6:08

6:10

6:12

6:15

"He's not letting them call, is he?" Penelope asked, tears in her eyes.

"We have to keep trying." Hotch said. "We have to have faith. Where are we?"

"The NSA is working with us to try to crack this, but it's the hardest tech puzzle there is, I just don't..."

"It's all right. Keep trying."

"Okay. Okay."

Hotch stepped out into the hallway where Morgan and Dave were waiting. "What do you think this means?" Dave asked.

Hotch sighed. "Hopefully not the worst."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04  
T-minus 5**

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

The next night they were all waiting. And they all breathed a sigh of relief when the line rang at precisely 6:06 pm. There was JJ, looking hale and hearty. "JJ." Hotch said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. So is the baby." They all let out a sigh of relief. "The Unsub didn't call for Spencer last night. We think that's why he didn't open the net connection."

"What happened?" Dave asked.

JJ took a deep breath

* * *

 

**T-minus 7**

JJ's head spun around as she heard the door open behind her. "JJ, I am so sorry." Spencer said. He tried to hold the door open but it was too heavy and it forced him out of the way.

They both held their breath and waited.

After what turned out to be a good fifteen minutes JJ finally turned back to the computer, and found the connection down. "Damn it." She muttered. Ten minutes after that nothing had happened. "What happened?" She asked.

"He asked me to do something I don't know how to do." Spencer replied. "I just...I've just never done it before." He looked shocked, and more than a little scared.

It was remarkably disconcerting, to see Spencer on the verge of falling apart. JJ pulled him over to the table and poured him a cup of tea, which he did not pick up. Not a good sign. "Okay, you know how to do this. Take a deep breath and start at the beginning."

But Spencer had that searching stare he got when he was starting to put the puzzle together. And he wasn't looking at her. "JJ...I don't think I can."

"Why not?"

"Based on what he asked tonight...I think the only way I'm going to get through this is if I don't talk about it, at least parts of it, too closely? Or at least, I don't..."

Okay, if Spence couldn't talk about it something was really off. "Spence, we need as much as we can for a profile."

"I know. And I'll...I'll share what I can, I just..."

"Okay, just breathe, all right." Thankfully he nodded at that. "Tell me what you can. Where did you go? Was the Unsub there?"

"The same room down the hall and no. It was the same set up. The directions were to sit in the chair. After five minutes he asked me to..." Spencer stopped and swallowed.

"It's okay Spence."

"And I told him I couldn't. I didn't know how. I never have. After about a minute the note changed again and told me to come back here. I would have tried, I guess, but..."

JJ was terrified. What if her baby was hurt? But she couldn't be mad at her friend, he was so distressed. "It's okay. Just relax now. Tell me when you can. We'll just have to see what he does now."

* * *

 

Later that night they were lying in bed trying to sleep. Thankfully the lights were programmable, so they could maintain something like a circadian rhythm. But stress was not helping. Neither was having a bouncing baby boy bouncing on your bladder. "Please don't laugh." Spencer said as JJ returned from her third bathroom trip.

"I won't. Promise." Whatever it was she wouldn't. Spencer was going one on one with an Unsub to protect her baby, the least she could do was not laugh.

"And don't tell Morgan."

"All right."

"I know why we don't have any privacy."

"Oh?" Yeah, peeing with an open door was not easy. But they made a point of being as far as they could from the bathroom when the other was using it during the day, and at night Spencer ignored her. "Why?"

"To keep me from doing what he wants me to do."

That made no...wait. JJ's stomach twisted. Of course. "Where he can't observe you." She said. "Where he doesn't have control."

"Exactly."

"That makes sense." Knowing she could walk in would have an inhibiting effect...wait. "Never!?" He was a thirty three year old male and he never...

Spencer was quiet a moment. "You know, my Mom didn't believe in any one particular religious faith, but she did raise me with the precepts of chivalry. It would be disloyal to...to..."

"Your future lady?" Oh she was not hearing this.

"Something like that."

"Lucky lady." Some girl was going to open up a whole new world for their Dr. Reid one of these days. Now she knew why he didn't want her to laugh or tell Morgan.

"Thanks."

"You know, if you want to deal with that before the Unsub calls you again I'll go sleep on the couch."

"I was thinking about that." He replied. "I'm trying to decide between two courses of action."

"What are they?"

"One, I can ask you to sleep on the couch. Or rather I can go sleep on the couch. On the one hand that would deny the Unsub his reward. On the other I would be doing that just to deny the Unsub his reward, which given that it could put you and Michael at risk could be a very selfish choice, should the Unsub realize what I'd done. I would feel very guilty for even taking the risk."

"Okay."

"The other option is to wait for the Unsub. Which would mean sacrificing that for Michael's safety, which does fit my moral code. But...I find that thought remarkably disquieting."

"I can understand that." That would be a hard thing to lose, if it mattered that much to you. "Do you want my input?"

"Please."

"Knowing you, I say wait."

"Why?"

"Because you can endure disquiet, even loss, easier than you can endure guilt. And because you will always feel guilty but I know, in a way that you can't know yet, that when you get there you will realize that it is so different that you really never sacrificed that at all."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I promise."

She could almost feel the load lifting off the other side of the room. "All right then. Good night."

* * *

 

**T-minus 6**

The next night 6:05 came and went

And 6:06.

6:07

6:08

6:10

6:12

6:15

"I guess he's not going to call you." JJ said. "And that means we're not calling the office."

Spencer sighed. "Great."

* * *

 

**T-minus 5**

And now here they were. "Never?" Dave asked. "He's not human."

"No." Hotch agreed. "He's Reid."

"We know this guy has to have been stalking both of them for a while." Morgan said. JJ had to tell him, of course, but Morgan wouldn't go there with this. She knew that. "But he can't know Reid that well if he didn't know this."

"So it's someone who knows him, but not intimately." Hotch said.

"That's still a lot of people." Dave replied.

"I know." JJ said. "But that's all we have so far."

"We'll keep trying." Hotch said.

"Tell him if all else fails when he gets back she's on me." Dave said.

JJ chuckled. "I am not going to tell him that."

"No, but I am going to compile a list of every blind date I can for him." Penelope said. "I will not rest until he has a girl this time."

"Okay. Okay." JJ looked at the clock. "It's almost time. Hey Will, I love you."

Will had been sitting in, if only to have a chance to see if wife. "I love you too chère."

"Take care." Hotch said. And then the line cut out.

They collectively sighed. "Never?" Dave asked again.

They ignored that. "So what do we do now?" Morgan asked.

"Keep digging into victimology on Reid." Hotch replied. "Whoever did this knows him somehow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is likely a good place to ask, this is going to be one of those where I allude to some very mature chapters. Do you all want the explicit stuff in a separate story like I've done in the past?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05  
T-minus 5**

Once JJ hung up the line she had nothing to do but wait. But it had never taken long before.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

"Well, crap." She said. Whatever was happening the Unsub must be working him over this time. For a moment she felt panicked despair at the thought, but she took a deep breath a got a grip. There wasn't anything she could do to make this better, to help at all, but could she do anything to at least provide a comfort? Other than tea? She'd make a cake if she had the stuff for it.

Eventually she dozed off on the couch.

She awoke to the sound of the door opening. Spencer staggered through the door. His clothes were mussed, his eyes heavy and he was barefoot. "Spence." JJ hurried over to help him.

"JJ?" He blinked at her a few times. "I don't..." He waved a paper in his hand.

"It's okay. Come lie down." She got an arm around him and half dragged him to the bedroom where he kind of poured into bed. He landed and immediately drifted off.

She got his glasses off, and went to get the throw from the couch to toss over him. At least he was breathing, he was snoring lightly. She took the paper from his hand, to see what the Unsub had to say.

_0.5 mg Rohypnol_   
_Administered at 1805_   
_Effects last 8-12 hours_

_Cool showers for the next 48 hours_   
_Lukewarm showers for five days past that_   
_Avoid hot water_   
_Do not use the sun lamp_

_Administer 12 oz electrolyte solution upon waking and at 4h+ waking_

"Crap." JJ said. It had been almost five hours already, there was nothing to do but wait for Spencer to sleep it off. And nothing she could do to help. And what was all that about showers anyway? And electrolytes? That had nothing to do with roofies.

Out of options she shut off the lights, and went to bed.

* * *

 

**T-minus 4**

The next morning she had time to get up and make a pot of coffee for her friend. She considered breakfast options, but she knew he would just want toast with his eggs. Eggs and milk were running low though. The Unsub had said all reasonable requests, so she made up a grocery list. At the end she added a request for cake mix and frosting, and sent it up in the dumbwaiter. Why not.

Eventually she heard movement from the bedroom and saw legs swing over the bed. She made a cup of coffee and brought it in to him. "Good morning." She said.

"Good morning." He replied. "Thank you." That was for the coffee. "Why don't I remember anything?"

"You got roofied." She handed him the paper. "It doesn't count if someone gives it to you, right?" If some NA wonk held this against him they were going to have to deal with a very testy pregnant lady.

But Spencer smiled lightly. "No, it doesn't."

"Do you remember anything?"

"I walked in. There was a glass of grapefruit juice on the table, with instructions to drink it and wait." He nodded. "That would have hidden the flavor. Why is there something about showers here?"

"Not a clue. Do you feel up to finding out?"

In reply Spencer stood up and checked to see if he was steady on his feet yet. "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay, let me know." JJ left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen to give him some privacy. But she got as far as the living room area before his exclamation called her back. "What is it?"

"Not sure." He replied. He was fully awake now, a note of panic and anger in his voice. "Don't start breakfast just yet. Give me a few here."

"Okay." She heard the shower start and went back to the kitchen.

A few minutes later she heard the shower shut off. Then he called out. "Son of a bitch!"

"Excuse me?" Spencer Reid did not curse. Not ever. She went to see what was going on. "Are you covered?"

"Decently." She walked him and found him standing there shirtless. "I've never been a walking rug but I actually had body hair yesterday. It all fell out in the shower."

Okay, but now he didn't, which meant...which meant... "Laser hair removal." She said.

"What?"

"Laser hair removal. I got tired of trying to keep up with shaving my legs between cases and going out to see Will so I had it done back when we were dating. They gave me the same directions, cool showers for the first two days, lukewarm for a few days after, avoid hot water and stay out of the sun. It actually takes four or five passes to get it all, whatever was dormant last night will grow back. How much did he take off?" Spencer gave her one of those looks. "Okay, that is creepy."

"I'm trying not to think about it. It probably wasn't any worse than being scrubbed down by the CDC."

"Probably not."

"Is it permanent?"

"More than likely? It'll at least be a lot thinner. Um, but if it's any help most women like the look."

"Good to know."

But JJ was squinting at him again. "Did he cut your hair last night?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Great. Do you feel all right otherwise?"

"My digestive system feels a little off. Which might have to do with the electrolyte solution he suggested. But otherwise I feel fine."

"Okay. Well, I don't know what we can do about it. If you're up to it come have some breakfast."

"Okay." Spencer took another deep breath, this one even shakier than the last.

"Spence, no matter what it will be okay. We'll make this right somehow."

He managed a smile at her. "I believe that."

But not two minutes later, while she was scrambling eggs he came out of the bedroom, still shirtless. "JJ, you said there were spare clothes?"

"Yeah, over by the washer. Why?" She followed him as he went and started tearing up the pile. "Spence, what is it?" He picked out one of the shirts, an odd blue-purple color, and pushed past her, heading back to the bedroom. "Spence?" She followed and watched as he pulled the shirt over his head. "Nanotubes?"

He quickly pulled a comb through his hair. "I owned a copy of this shirt when I was at CalTech." He said. "They sold them in a store right off campus. I had the same haircut, the same glasses..."

"He's making you look like you did back in college?"

"Not just college. He wants me to look thirteen again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, an extra story with Spencer's memories it will be. When we get there which is not yet.
> 
> Also, nanotubes
> 
> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/43/85/73/438573afca8cd07e1ba94bdb37bdd068.jpg


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06  
T-minus 4**

JJ cooked breakfast while Spencer perched on the back of the couch, lost in thought. "What are you thinking?" She asked when she went to set the table.

"I'm trying to figure out what he wants." He replied. "I'm trying to get out ahead of him."

"He wants to be your first, maybe? Or rather he wanted to be your first back then, is we assume this is about sex. Now that he knows he has another crack at it he's trying to bring you back to what works for him. So who tried courting you back then?"

"No one."

"Spence..."

"No, JJ, I don't forget things. No one tried to directly court me back then. Granted thinking about it someone was interested in something."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because of the way my roommate acted. He grew increasingly paranoid over the first two months we were there. He kept saying he thought someone was trying to prank him, but thinking back now I think he knew someone was acting inappropriately. After a couple of months he went to my academic advisor and I ended up going to live with him and his parents instead of in the dorm. All Ethan ever said was that there were too many pervs around."

"Okay, so there was someone, you just never saw them. That person is this person."

But Spencer was still thinking. "Ethan acquired a number of detection devices. He kept acting like he suspected the room was bugged. I thought he was avoiding a prank."

All of a sudden JJ got it too. "But what if he was checking for cameras, for an Unsub who likes to watch. We already know what you don't do actively, were you already in puberty when you started at CalTech?" She smiled a little when he looked confused. "I have two boys, I've already read ahead to the chapter on wet dreams." She planned to show Henry and Michael how to wash their own sheets and let Will handle everything else. Not Mom's job there.

"Not at that age." He explained. "Actually never. Twenty-six percent of men never do, it's not abnormal."

"So you think he's going to try to force the issue so he can see it now?"

"Very likely."

"How?" In reply Spencer looked at the glass of electrolyte solution in his hand. "Oh! Oh ew."

"Yeah. I think I'm really glad I was sedated last night."

"Yeah, no kidding." She'd rather sleep through that herself. She was just dammed glad they no longer made pregnant mothers go through that before labor. "If the Unsub comes through with groceries I'm making you cake tonight."

"That's something to look forward to. The problem is, I don't know how to get mentally ahead of this."

JJ considered this for a moment while she put eggs and toast on the table. "Want some advice from an old married lady?"

Spencer chuckled. "Of course. I wouldn't call you old though."

"Aww. Okay, so in my experience there are two kinds of sexual encounters. The first kind is very inwardly focused. You have a fantasy going in your head or a mental picture of someone you find attracted or whatever works to heighten the sensations, you start getting physical and eventually that itch gets scratched. Masturbation is usually like that, but you can be that way with a partner as well. The point is that you're not really communicating anything, there's no intimacy, it's all about focusing on you and scratching that itch."

"Okay."

"The other kind is all outwardly focused. You're with a partner you're really close to, you trust them implicitly, and you're entirely in the moment. You're focused on their reactions, and on what they're doing to you and it's all about sharing and being open and this wonderful magic that happens between you. That kind of thing doesn't always have to involve orgasm, or even genitals, it's all about the communication and the sharing and the intimacy."

"Which is how I always thought it should be."

"Right, I figured that. Now the thing is, for most people the first few times you masturbate it's outwardly focused. It's all new sensations and experiences and discovering what your body can do for the first time and you haven't really figured out that you have that itch going or what fantasy is and all of that. Now if what we haven't really been saying is what I think it is, this might be that, but if anyone has the mental strength to turn that to something inward instead it's you. And then you still have those outward experiences for the girl of your dreams."

Spencer contemplated his orange juice for a long moment. "Actually, when you put it that way...Lila."

JJ blinked at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Lila?"

"Kind of. At least a little bit.  I have to admit, it came as quite a shock."

"I can understand that." So Lila woke up the Doctor huh? "Better her than the Unsub."

"Yeah, no kidding."

JJ smiled. This situation still sucked on many levels, but at least Spencer looked more at ease. At least there was that.

She could only hope it was enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**Quantico, VA**   
**T-minus 3**

"Ew." Penelope said.

It was the fifth night since the two agents had gone missing. Once again Spencer was going head to head against the Unsub. And once again JJ was on the line. "Yeah, I know." JJ replied. "But he remembered something. Back when he was a freshman at CalTech he started out in one of the dorms, but after a couple of months his roommate started insisting they find him a host family instead. He went to live with his academic advisor's family for a few years."

"Why?" Hotch asked.

"All his roommate ever said was that there were too many pervs around for him to stay in the dorm."

"Did he ever get a name?" Dave asked.

"No. His roommate ran interference."

"What about a name on the roommate?"

"Ethan Jones. You won't find him Garcia, Spence said he's more than a little paranoid. He's completely off the grid. The last time he actually saw him was back in 2007."

"Where?" Hotch asked.

"That's the good news. He's a musician now. Last time Spence saw him he was playing piano at a bar called Harry's Corner, corner of Chartres and Dumaine in the French Quarter."

"I know that bar." Will said from the back of the room. "If he's anywhere down there I will find him."

"Morgan, go with him." Hotch said. "I'll call for the plane. We'll watch Henry." The two men hurried out.

"How are you holding up?" Penelope asked.

"I'm fine. Worried about Spence but otherwise I'm good." JJ replied. "I'm baking him a cake. The Unsub sent groceries down. I asked for cake mix, he sent twelve boxes."

"What kind?"

"Cherry chip with rainbow chip frosting. I swear he eats like a kid."

"Very true."

* * *

 

**Harry's Bar  
New Orleans, LA**

It takes two and a half hours to fly from Quantico, VA to New Orleans on a light jet. Subtract one for crossing a time zone, add thirty to prep the plane and fifteen to drive into town from the airport. Morgan and Will left the BAU at 6:15 and arrived at Harry's bar at 8, just in time to catch the first set by the house band.

As soon as it was over they stepped out into the back alley with the piano player. "Ethan Jones?" Will asked while Morgan flashed his credentials.

The tall man with the beard didn't bat an eye. "If this is official business I'm calling in a favor."

"Your favor is the business." Will replied. "Spencer's in trouble."

"Why does that not surprise me."

Morgan took over. "Back when you were in CalTech you had Spencer move out of the dorms."

"Ancient history." Ethan lit up a cigarette while they talked. "Yeah, it started a couple of weeks after the start of the fall term, when we were freshmen. So one day I get back in before Spencer does and I find this weird white dust all over my mousepad. I looked up and one of the ceiling tiles is out of position, it had a water mark and it was off. So I got up there to see if it was rats or something and I found a little camera in the ceiling, pointed at Spencer's bed."

"Aw hell." Will said.

"Yeah. I mean, I was sixteen, right? I was a kid. But I felt like an old man next to Spencer, he was just a baby. What kind of fuckhead, you know? I thought, he's pulling a load and a half, he has a sick mother at home, the last thing he needs is some fucked up perv to worry about. So I pulled it out, went to the RA, filled out a complaint, and figured security would take care of it. I told Spencer I thought someone was trying to prank me so make sure he locks the door every time, and he does. A week goes by and I don't hear anything but something still feels off. So I asked around and got some bug detecting equipment..."

"You asked around for it?" Morgan asked.

Ethan thought a minute and shrugged. "It's CalTech. Yeah. So I borrowed some and set it up and sure enough, there's another camera tucked in behind his bookcase. Now I know we've been locking the room religiously, so I went to the RA, complained again. She said she lost the original complaint, had me fill out a new set and got maintenance to come out and change our locks. Problem solved, right? Wrong. Two weeks later I come back and find that this fuckhead has left a gift on Spencer's pillow. A teddy bear and romantic poetry. So I looked and this time he hid the camera in the heating vent."

"Jesus." Will said.

"Yeah, I know. This isn't casual pervyness anymore; this fucker is going after my kid brother now. So I went and pitched a fit, this guy has to have a master key, we need better security and so on. The RA tells me it's probably a prank and by school rules the guy being pranked has to complain to the president's office to be ruled unprankable. He had just turned thirteen, the fucker left the gift for his birthday, this shit started when he was still twelve. I'm not going to tell him that some weirdo has been targeting him. So I lodged my own complaint, got on the unprankable list, and had the locks changed again."

"But he came back." Morgan said.

"Yeah. He left sex toys behind, with instructions. I didn't even look for the camera this time. I didn't let Spencer come back and I didn't bother with the RA anymore, I went and told his academic advisor."

"What did he do?" Will asked.

Ethan chuckled. "Charlie was seventeen; it was his first year on the job. He was from Pasadena, he still lived at home. I was a sixteen year old freshman from Montana who had never lived away from home in my life. We asked his Dad what to do. Alan went to the President's office, next thing we knew we were moving Spencer in with him and his wife. Spencer lived with them until he was eighteen; they became a second family to him. When he turned eighteen I was up for a roommate again, so we shared an apartment in grad student quarters until he joined the Bureau."

"And that was the end of it?" Morgan asked.

"As far as I know." Ethan replied. "We never found out who it was. He left Spencer alone after that, so I didn't care."

"What was the RA's name?"

"Marjorie Jenkins, why?"

"She's next on the list to talk to." Will replied.

"Good luck with that."

"Yeah." Morgan said. "All right. Thank you."

"Yeah. Tell him to get his ass down here." Ethan said. "He owes me a drink."

Will nodded. "We will."

* * *

 

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

Morgan and Will had dutifully relayed all this information back to base. "You know, you can argue that a seventeen year old, even a sixteen year old, is mature enough to be emancipated." Dave said. "But twelve and thirteen is still very much a minor. What I don't know is why the RA didn't take this more seriously."

"Possibly because she is the Unsub." Penelope said. "Marjorie Jenkins got her PhD from CalTech in physics in 1996, she worked in private industry for the next five years, picked up a handful of patents, made a ton of money but then she dropped out. She started teaching in an all-boys prep school in New England. She was fired three years later, moved to another one five years after that, another four years after that..."

"A woman who likes to watch." Dave nodded. "Rare, but not unheard of, unfortunately. They usually target their own children."

"Any criminal charges filed?" Hotch asked.

"A school like that wouldn't unless someone was injured." Dave replied. "They would want to cover it up to avoid the scandal. We already know that this one just likes to watch, that's easy to keep quiet. And with a woman it seems so unlikely, the cognative dissonance probably didn't help. But what triggered her to come after Reid now?"

"She was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer eight months ago." Penelope said. "It's terminal."

Dave nodded. "Bucket list."

"The one that got away." Hotch replied.

"First love is always the strongest."

"Oh my god." Penelope said. "She used her debit card at a grocery store in Baltimore this morning. And she used her club card, which means they have a record of her purchase. What are the odds that this lady bought twelve boxes of cake mix and twelve cans of frosting, including cherry chip and rainbow chip?"

"There's our one mistake." Dave said.

"Divert Morgan and Will to Baltimore." Hotch said. "We found our Unsub."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be the Ethan we met in 02x18 "Jones".


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2
> 
> It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.
> 
> \- Frederick Douglass

 

**Chapter 08  
T-minus 3**

_Return to the living quarters_

The words swam before Spencer Reid's eyes. It was the first command he agreed with wholeheartedly.

_Return to the living quarters_

As soon as he could he jerked on his jeans. Same brand he used to wear, bought at a warehouse store, always a little too big in the waist. He didn't bother to do up the fly, or put on his shirt or even his shoes and socks. He just grabbed them all and went stumbling out the door.

_Return to the living quarters_

It said on the monitor in the darkness of the main torment room. Didn't have to tell him twice.

He staggered out of there into the main hallway, and screamed in a voice too hoarse to be loud. The industrial fluorescents were like needles plunged into his eyes. He couldn't keep his eyes open against them; even with his eyes closed it was far too bright. He covered his face with his arm and threw himself against the door to the living quarters. It was heavy to pull back, and the handle was hard to grasp when your hands were shaking.

Not just his hands. He was still shaking.

"Spence?"

Even the lights in here were too bright. He turned off the overheads in the living area, leaving it lit by the light from the over the stove. More than enough. And there was JJ, warm and safe. If she touched him right now, if she hugged him right now, he would fall apart sobbing. He couldn't stop shaking.

"Spence. Come here."

Of course she pulled him in. And it was as warm and as safe and he knew it would be and he burst into tears. All he wanted right now was to feel this warm and this safe, and somehow he knew it was wrong to want this from her.

"Shhh. It's okay. It's okay."

It wasn't okay. He hurt, something like bruises in places he didn't want to think about. He could still smell the Unsub on him, coating his skin. And the bastard hadn't even been in the room. He couldn't stop shaking, the tremors were coming from somewhere behind his belly and radiating out. He just couldn't stop.

"Come on. Let's sit down."

He didn't want to sit down. He needed to get back under control somehow. He needed a shower, a hot, hot, shower to scrub what had happened off his skin. He gently pushed JJ away and staggered to the bathroom.

"Spence. If there's evidence..."

He shook his head. There was no evidence. The monster was more intelligent than that.

"Not too hot."

Right. The monster had taken that too. Fine, cold then. Cold and strong deodorant soap to burn the scent off his skin. He turned on the shower, dropped his pants utterly heedless of the lack of a door, and stepped in. The ice cold water felt like needles on his skin, like knives flensing the away what had happened. And the soap burned. But it was a good burn; he could get clean this way.

After about three minutes of trying to scrub the skin off his tender places he remembered that you really shouldn't put a person in shock in cold water.

Thankfully JJ was there. When he tried to get out of the shower and landed in a pile on the floor, shaking so hard his teeth were rattling, she was there. She wrapped him in towels, dried off his hair and pressed his pajama pants into his hands. Only then did he realize he wasn't wearing anything and that it didn't matter, at least not right now. Maybe at all anymore. He wasn't sure about that.

"Come here."

When he was reasonably dry and had his pants on at least she tried to tug him to the bedroom. He couldn't go to bed, the thought of being on a bed sickened him, so he pushed past and went to the couch.

"Okay." Was all JJ said.

She brought him fuzzy socks that didn't match and the blanket from the bed and her own hoodie which was too short in the arms but big in the torso for belonging on a pregnant woman, and which thankfully wasn't from CalTech. He snuggled in to it all, and then into the blanket she wrapped around him and then into her arms. Only then did he realize he had never stopped crying.

"What happened?"

His only reply was to shake his head. He couldn't tell her. Well, he could, the bare bones of it were simple. But it felt so confusing, he wasn't certain why he reacted the way he did, or how to feel about that. He wanted to tell her he'd taken her advice, and it was the biggest mistake he could have made.

He did something so wrong it couldn't be spoken aloud.

He _was_ something so wrong it couldn't be spoken aloud.

He also seemed to have lost the connection between his brain and his mouth somewhere. He couldn't make words come out. He knew this though. He knew this, this inability to stop shaking and inability to talk. He knew this, he had done this before. Oh yes, he remembered. But he didn't have what he needed to fix it here.

"It's okay. It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. He curled up into a tight ball to try to control the shaking, rested his head on her knee and let the tears seep. It wasn't okay, and he dearly wanted it to be okay so he could think again. He would have to push this away, he had to. He couldn't survive if he didn't.

Then he heard a sound he didn't quite recognize. And felt her turn to look behind her.

And then she said the one thing he didn't want her to say right now. Not until tomorrow maybe. Or in an hour. Or even five minutes, just to give him a chance.

But no, she said it right then. Because the universe was like that.

"Clear."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09  
T-minus 3**

"Stay here." JJ said. She tucked a pillow under Spencer's head as she slid away, watched him curl into a tighter ball and pull the blanket up over his head. She sighed and went over to meet Morgan and Dave who were coming in the door. "That was quick." She said.

"Good thing you sent the Unsub for cake." Dave replied. "Once we got the name from Reid's roommate your grocery order led us right to her. All that security on the net and she used her club card."

"She?"

"Unusual but not unheard of. What's wrong with him?" Dave indicated Spencer.

"Ask the Unsub. He's been like this since he came back. He was there for hours, he came back in just his pants which he didn't bother to button, he went straight into the shower and he hasn't said anything or stopped crying."

Morgan sighed. "Oh, I can tell you what happened."

"Yeah. I know." JJ felt like crying. "I just don't know what to do about it now." She stepped closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. "You know he's still a virgin, right?"  Emotionally he still was at least.  They had no clue what the Unsub had done to him.  But he went willingly to protect Michael, she would never forget that.

"We got that from the never." Dave replied. "We'll help him through this. What are our chances of walking him out to the ambulance?"

Morgan peeked over the couch again. "I'm thinking not that great. I'll go get them in here." He left to go get help.

"In the meantime let's get you out there Bella." Dave said.

"No, I'm fine." JJ replied. "I want to help Spence."

"Morgan can take care of Reid. You need to take care of the baby."

"But I..."

"I'm not going to let you argue. As soon as Morgan gets back we're leaving."

JJ sighed and looked over at her friend. He looked so small there. And she didn't know how to help.

Then Morgan was coming in with an ambulance team and Dave was tugging her out the door.

It had seemed longer, the first time she walked this way, when she was blindfolded and cuffed. Now it was no time at all before they were stepping outside. JJ immediately took the deepest breath she could. "You okay, Bella?" Dave asked.

"Oh yeah." JJ replied. "Spence kept us safe from the Unsub, but that meant I've been in that apartment for a week."

Dave chuckled. "A little cabin fever?"

"I am so taking Henry to the park tomorrow." There was real sunshine and green grass in her future.

And then she saw someone who would want to go with her. A moment later she was in his arms. "Hey Jayge." Will said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine...ooo!" She laughed and pulled his hand under her shirt so he could feel the fluttering through her skin. "I think someone missed his daddy."

"I missed him too." Will said. Oh, she had to reach up and wipe a tear away. "Come on, they want to look you over."

"I'm fine, really." But she obligingly went to sit on the back of the ambulance and let them poke at her for a while. Which was why she was able to watch them wheeling Spencer out on a gurney with Morgan walking along. "What happened?" She asked. Spence had been okay when she left. Not great but he could walk. Well, stagger. Move at least.

"He got combative." Morgan replied. "They had to sedate him. I've never seen him like this."

"Oh, son of a bitch. The Unsub drugs him twice and now we've done it a third time. I have to go with him." She said to Will as she started detangling herself from the paramedics.

"No you don't chère." Will replied.

"He went through this to protect Michael. I'm going to make sure he's okay."

"You need to make sure Michael is okay."

"Michael and I are fine!"

"Actually your blood pressure is high." The paramedic said.

"What?" No it wasn't. High blood pressure is bad in pregnancy, which was why she and Spence were checking it every day. She'd been spot on normal that morning. "No, I'm fine. It's just stress."

"Jayge..."

"Spence needs me!"

"No, Spencer needs _us_." Dave said. "Any of us can help him and we will. But you're the only one who can take care of Michael right now."

"God damn it." How Dave managed to stay the calm rock no matter what she did not know, but right now that calm sureness cut through everything. He was right. "You better stay with him Derek."

"You know I will Momma." Morgan replied.

Son of a. JJ sighed. "All right, let's go to the hospital. Apparently I have a date with a pee cup."

At least they were safe.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**   
**University of Maryland Medical Center**   
**Baltimore, MD**   
**T-minus 2**

_Keep your hands at your sides._

_No, Spencer thought. He was lying on his back once more, looking up at that drop tile ceiling. The Unsub didn't even hide the cameras well. I don't want this, he thought. No more. I can't. It hurts._

_Keep your hands at your sides._

_He thought this was over. Why was it happening again?_

_Keep your hands at your sides._

_He heard the buzzing start..._

Spencer Reid woke up, opened his eyes, and looked at the familiar blur of a drop tile ceiling. I am so sorry, he thought. Then he shut his eyes tight, rolled, curled into a ball and pulled the thick blanket over his head.

Wait. Blanket?

He carefully opened his eyes again. From what he could make out he was looking at the railing of a hospital bed. Beyond it was a large chair holding a large, dark form. From the sound, the shape, the color and the likely odds the buzzing that had trickled into his dream was the sound of Derek Morgan snoring.

Apparently they had been rescued.

Spencer took a deep breath and tried to call to Morgan, but he couldn't make the words come out. Also, his core was still shaking, making him want to curl up tighter to try to get it to calm. But it wasn't working.

And then someone turned on the light in the room. It made his eyes burn so bad he had to close them, and even that wasn't enough.

"Dr. Reid? Dr. Reid?"

Someone touched his shoulder. It made the trembling worse.

Someone please make it stop.

Please make it stop.

* * *

 

Morgan blinked and sat up as a doctor and a nurse. The nurse headed for Spencer's bed as they watched. Morgan noticed that Reid had curled up in a tight ball, and was ignoring any attempt to move him. "Dr. Reid? Dr. Reid?"

"Do you have any idea what's causing this?" He asked.

"No." The doctor replied. "Maybe some form of drug reaction. But so far the tests have come back negative."

"It's got to be something." Maybe the kid's mind finally snapped. It had good reason after all. Wait. Spencer had stuck his hand out from under the blanket, just a little, and was motioning for him to go over there. "Reid?" The kid didn't stick anything else out but made an odd motion with his hand. "What are you doing?" He did it again and again. It looked familiar. It looked like... "Do you have anything he can write on?"

"Yeah." The doctor handed him his clipboard and pen. Morgan held them in front of Spencer, who took the pen, wrote two words, and the burrowed back under again. "What does it say?" The doctor asked.

"I don't know what the first one is but the second is above my pay grade." Morgan replied. He looked at the lump in the bed. "Are you going to sit tight while I go get Hotch?" Spence stuck his hand out again, thumbs up. "Okay."

* * *

 

"You think this has something to do with Anthrax?" Dave asked.

"I have no idea." Hotch replied. As they watched the laptop screen switched over to video conference. "Dr. Kimura, you got my message."

"I did." She replied. "How is Dr. Reid?"

"Not well. We're having trouble communicating with him right now. He gave us your name and the word 'Baclofen'. Does that mean anything to you?"

She seemed to understand right away. "Yes. I put him on a ten-day tapered course while he was in treatment with us. Let me guess, tremors, light sensitivity, avoidance of touch and inability to speak?"

"Yes." Hotch replied. "Are those side effects of the Anthrax?"

"No. Baclofen is an anti-spasmodic, usually used to treat spasticity in patients with muscular dystrophy and cerebral palsy, and sometimes to help with the DTs in alcoholics. It's also being used experimentally in patients on the autistic spectrum with co-morbid sensory processing disorder to treat hyperstimulation."

"Hyperstimulation?" Hotch asked.

Dr. Kimua smiled a little. "The short version is that some individuals on the Autisum spectrum can react to certain forms of stimuli by becoming hypersensitive. Their sensory nerves become over stimulated and start reading what we would consider normal sensory input as overwhelming, sometimes to the point of painful. Something in the decontamination procedure triggered that for him and he ended up in a hyperstimulated state. The most common medication used is diazepam but he refused anything with an addiction potential. Baclofen is experimental in these cases but it's non-addictive and he indicated he was willing to try. It helped."

"Can you share that information with the doctors here without violating national security?"

"Sure."

"Do you know specifically what part of the procedure triggered him?"

"No. We were too focused on the Anthrax problem. Sorry."

* * *

 

Hotch briefed them on what was going on. After that Morgan went back to his vigil. He was there when the nurse very quietly told Spencer what he was getting as she injected his IV. After that there was nothing to do but wait.

Forty-five minutes later Penelope Garcia joined them. "How is he?" She asked.

"Hanging in there." Morgan replied. "We're waiting for the meds to kick in. Keep your voice down; Dr. Kimua said to keep it very quiet, like we did last time. How did you do with the Unsub's computer?"

"Oh, that beast is not going to go down easy. We're taking it back to DC to work on it some more." She went and leaned over Spencer's bed, peering into the tiny hole in the blanket cocoon where you could just see his nose. "Spency. Are you alive in there?"

"Don't let Morgan eat all the Jell-o." came the very quiet reply.

"Hey, sounds like someone is awake." Morgan said.

"I've been awake the whole time. The Baclofen is working." Spencer replied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Horrible."

"Are you coming out?"

"No."

Morgan chuckled. "All right. I'll go tell Hotch you made it this far."

* * *

 

Spencer didn't know why Morgan was bothering, other than it was Hotch and they should let him know. He wasn't planning on moving anytime soon. The shaking in his core had gone away, and he could talk, at least quietly. He didn't want to twitch for fear it would all come back.

Intellectually he knew why this happened, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

Instead he decided to work on getting out of this self-imposed cocoon. The problem was that it was warm in there; he'd reached the state of perfect thermostasis, where the air between him and the blankets was precisely body temperature. The blankets were providing even pressure and protecting his touch receptors. And it was blocking out at least 82 percent of the light. As long as he didn't move he was perfectly insulated from anything that might hurt.

But there were other needs arising. "I have to keep this IV in, don't I?" He asked, hoping that someone was there to answer.

Thankfully someone was. "I think so." Penelope said. "Why, what's up?"

"I'm afraid when I crawl out of here it's going to be cold." He admitted. "And I'm not wearing pants and I need to go to the bathroom. I was hoping for a robe of some kind."

She chuckled. "How about if I just call a nurse?"

Damn. "Only if they keep the lights off." He might be able to handle touch and temperature, but light was a bit beyond him just yet.

"I have your sunglasses, would they help?"

"Possibly." It was worth a try.

"Let me see what we can do."

"Thank you." Spencer was going to hope that this meant that life was...well, life would never be good again.  But it might be starting to look up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**  
 **University of Maryland Medical Center**  
Baltimore, MD  
T-minus 2

Unfortunately life wasn't exactly looking up just yet.

Getting up was in fact torture. Not only did the nurses insist on turning on all the lights for safety they proceeded to tug him out of bed into the cold room and walk him to the even colder bathroom. He had to insist before they left him alone in there. Granted one of the side effects of Baclofen was dizziness but he was hanging in there so far. Thankfully he was able to climb back into bed before he started that infernal internal shivering again. And it didn't come back. Hallelujah. That meant he could snuggle down, dim the lights and wait to feel better again.

Unfortunately by then it was after lunch, and since another side effect was nausea and vomiting the doctor ordered him a bland diet. This solved the non-existent problem of him not wanting to eat anyway because there was no way in hell he was going to eat a dry turkey sandwich and insipid vegetable soup. They didn't even have Jello-o, they had sherbet. "I really don't want to eat anything." He admitted. Besides, he shouldn't have the Jell-o. He didn't deserve dessert.

"That's likely the meds."

"Maybe. I didn't have this problem the last time this happened. At least I don't think I had this problem the last time." For some reason his memory was kind of fuzzy. "Maybe I did. I remember Dr. Kimura telling me I had to eat. She got them to cook for me."

"You were a hero that time, remember." Penelope waved her knitting needle at him. "Granted you still are this time, but not on a national level."

"I'm a hero?" That would explain Dr. Kimura.

"Yep. JJ and Michael are checking out today. They are both in perfect health, thanks to you. Speaking of, you're spending tonight on my couch."

Huh? "No, I..."

"Ah ah. No arguing."

"But I..."

"JJ doesn't want you left alone tonight and she needs to be at home with Will and Henry so I said I would look after you. I will even cook for you."

"I still don't want to eat anything." That wasn't true. He very much wanted to eat certain things. But he really didn't deserve them right now.

"I'll keep it simple then." Spencer nodded. Simple and bland would be okay. "I'll make you pancakes." Penelope said.

"Not pancakes."

"Why not pancakes? You love pancakes."

Spencer stared at the sunlight coming through the window, then tipped his sunglasses down and tried it. Oh good, it didn't hurt anymore. His glasses were on the rolling bed table, easy enough to change. "Did you ever do something and even though you know intellectually you didn't do anything wrong on some level you still feel guilty? And you weren't certain of why?"

Penelope looked at him. "You mean something that happened with the Unsub?"

Spencer nodded. "I think so. I'm actually having trouble remembering what happened."

"Oh, no, sweetie, JJ and Michael are perfect, you're in one piece, we got the bad guy, whatever happened you have nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing!"

"You know, I know that, but..."

"Okay, look, I get that you probably can't really talk about it right now and I know you know that you need to, and with a good person who knows about this sort of thing, and like, really, in depth. But until we find that person please be very kind to yourself? For us if not for you? Or let us be kind to you?"

Spencer actually had to think about that for a moment. "I guess."

"In that case I am making you pancakes. And sausage. And you are going to eat them."

"Okay."

Hotch knocked and came in there. "Garcia, will you give us a moment, please?'

"Sure." She stepped out of the room.

"I know you're not ready to talk about it." Of course Hotch knew, Hotch knew everything. "But officially I have to ask, did the Unsub assault you?"

How could a simple one word answer make his insides twist like that? How could one word be so hard to get out? "Yes." He managed at last. It fit the facts. But his memory of the actual event was remarkably fuzzy.

Thankfully Hotch didn't bat an eye. "All right. We will need a report but I asked Andi if she or someone on her team can read it in, for privacy. They deal with this sort of thing on a regular basis."

And would handle it well. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Hang on." He stepped out and brought the rest of the team with him.

Including Will and JJ. JJ came right over and gave him a hug. "How are you doing?" She asked.

"A little dizzy from the medication, but otherwise okay." Spencer replied. "How are you two?"

"Fine. Michael his healthy and happy in there."

That made him smile. Anything for his godchildren, really. That made it worth it. "Good."

"I wanted to tell you all together," Hotch said. "Marjorie Jenkins is dead."

Okay, that was a surprise. "How?" Morgan asked.

"According to the staff she had a massive stroke early this morning. A scan showed that the cancer had spread to her brain."

"So if I hadn't asked her for cake mix..." JJ leaned into Will and started shaking.

"We still would have figured it out Bella." Dave replied, rubbing her shoulder.

Spencer decided he wasn't going to think about that one. He could just take a pass on it completely.

"The men who kidnapped you were hired out of the Ukraine." Hotch continued. "They returned there the day after; I've sent the file to Emily for follow up through Interpol. For now the case is closed on our end."

Case closed. Nothing left to do but file the paperwork and figure out how to heal. "Does that mean we can go home?" Spencer asked.

"As soon as they let you out of here."

* * *

 **BAU Headquarters**  
Quantico, VA  
T-minus 1

Spencer was discharged that afternoon. He drove home with Morgan and Penelope, they chatted happily the whole way there, which was the perfect background noise to give him time to think. They stopped at his place, waited while he packed a bag, then they went back to Penelope's where she did indeed make him pancakes, which he felt very guilty about but he ate them to make her happy. After that they watched a movie, which was even more background noise, which was good.

He slept, but that had more to do with the Baclofen than with what was going on in his head.

The next morning she made scrambled eggs and ham, which was also tasty and which he felt a little less guilty about, and then they went in to the office. "Aren't you supposed to be off duty?" Dave asked.

"I'm only here to file my report."

"Ahhh."

Which Spencer was. He borrowed a laptop off Penelope and got comfortable in the conference room. He had to stop a couple of times along the way. "You okay, sweetie?" Penelope asked as she took his full coffee mug from his hand.

"A little dizzy." He admitted. "It's a side effect, when I start tapering off tomorrow it'll stop. Thank you for driving in by the way."

"Oh, no worries. Come on." She walked him in to the conference room. "Sit down before you fall down. Oh, and hold on." She came back with a bottle of water. "And drink this with your coffee. Water is always good for things."

"Yes, Ma'am." He teased. And then he did just that. He sat down and sipped water in between sips of coffee and started at the blank screen. And once again he tried to think.

And just like he had for the past twenty-four hours, he found nothing but silence between his ears. Silence and something monumental that he simply could not consider without fear and guilt curling in his belly.

I can give them the basics, he thought. They need to know what happened, I can figure that much out without actually remembering anything.

He took one more sip and started to type.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**BAU Headquarters**  
**Quantico, VA**  
 **T-minus 1**

In the meantime, Hotch had a visitor. "Hey, Andi, come on in." He said as he covered the book he'd been reading with a file folder.

"Hey Aaron." She shut the door behind her and came over to his desk. "I got your message. I'll take care that report for you."

"Thank you." Apparently he sucked at hiding things on his desk because she lifted the folder to reveal the book. "It's, um, supposed to be one of the better works on the subject." He said. They were going to help Reid through this, somehow. He had been doing research on the subject.

"I know." She replied. "The author is my aunt. My mother's sister."

"Really? I read that she has a residential program she runs up in Vermont. Any chance of getting an opening?"

"At the Harris Center? Sure, but I was going to bring you a better option."

"Okay."

"Aunt Lana runs a second program, the same thing only at a different location. A place called Twin Farms, it's a resort owned by my uncle, her brother. It's more comfortable and allows for greater privacy and security. She set it up specifically to work with people from the law enforcement community."

"Really?"

Andi nodded. "Everyone who works with the people there has a TS or better, to maintain case integrity. And it's private enough to maintain undercover identities if need be. She sets it up a couple of times a year, I've send a number of people to her. She even gives the Bureau a steep discount; she says it's her way of saying thank you."

"And it helps?"

"I've had people on the verge of leaving the Bureau and crawling away from their marriages and into a bottle of some kind or another. Eight weeks later they're right back in the game, at home and at work. And they're vastly more resilient after, they bounce back from everything. I was actually sending one of my people up tomorrow. She has room for another." Andi handed him a file.

This could be a lucky break, Hotch thought. "I'll go ask him."

Andi nodded. "I'll call Aunt Lana."

* * *

 

"Where is this?" Dave asked. Hotch showed him. "And she's charging us how much?"

Hotch showed him that as well. "Andi said it's her aunt's way of saying thank you for the work we do. I'm using discretionary funds for it. The Director signed off on it personally. Even sending them up there on the plane."

"He must like Reid. And that is one grateful aunt. I've been there. If they hadn't been paying me for an author week-end I wouldn't have been able to afford it. What she's charging us for eight weeks plus therapy wouldn't cover a three-day week-end."

"I just hope he's willing to go."

"I'll make him if he doesn't."

* * *

 

Spencer was uncertain. "On the one hand she is a leader in the field." He said. "I reviewed her writings on the subject. I have to admit I wouldn't mind working with anyone she trained." Oh, but he was so nervous even thinking about it.

"But on the other hand?" Hotch asked.

"JJ is going to be grounded in four weeks. This is for eight, are you sure you won't be shorthanded?"

Hotch shook his head. "Let me worry about that."

"But..."

"Spencer. The last few years have been hard, I know. I also know that the only time you've taken any leave was to go out to help with your mother. You've earned a break and you have an excellent opportunity here. Take it. This team will manage without you. It may not be easy but we will manage."

Spencer tried to think once more, encountered nothing but silence and that sense of something huge hiding inside his mind, took a deep breath and nodded. He had to try.

"All right. I'll talk to Andi and see what we need to do."

* * *

 

"They want someone to go with him for the first night." Hotch said. "Someone familiar with the case who can brief the therapist on what happened. I know it's asking a lot, I can send Morgan, but you have firsthand knowledge."

JJ ran a hand over the curve of her stomach. She was fine; she was planning on going back on full duty tomorrow anyway which would mean she had to be prepared to go on thirty minutes notice. She'd only taken today off because Will had it off anyway and they kept Henry home and had a family day. "I'll go." She said.

"Are you sure?"

"You know Spence, Hotch. He can manipulate his way out of anything. He didn't even try just to protect Michael. An overnight in Vermont is the least I can do to say thank you."

"All right. You'll leave tomorrow at nine."

* * *

 

 **Capitol Plaza Apartments**  
**Apartment 29**  
 **T-minus 1**

"Are you nervous?" Penelope asked.

Spencer was loading a fairly large suitcase he'd borrowed from Dave for the trip. He didn't have anything that would hold the extensive packing list they'd sent for the program. He'd even had to go out and buy a few things. He just didn't travel that much. Maybe Hotch had a point. "Kind of. I've never done anything like this before. You know they sent this questionnaire, they wanted to know everything I like to do, like to eat, all sorts of things."

"Which might be good, if they're trying to make you comfortable."

"I filled out the same kind of thing for Mom before she went in to Bennington."

"Oh. Oh! No, sweetie. This is not for good, you are not crazy. No, come here." Penelope pulled him into a hug. "This is not forever; this is for eight weeks, tops. Maybe less. But no more, if they try to keep you I will send Morgan up to break you out. And he will, I will make him."

Spencer smiled at that. No, this was not forever. He was still nervous. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I just know in my heart this will be good for you."

"I hope you're right."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 0**

"You're nervous." JJ said.

"How can you tell?" Spencer asked.

"You've been reading the same page for fifteen minutes."

They were in the plane, flying to Vermont. To my doom, Spencer thought. To where I will have to face up to whatever this thing is. This thing that I can't even remember and I remember everything. "I'm nervous." He admitted.

"Why?"

"I don't know that I'm ready to talk about this."

"So what, were you planning to bottle it up until retirement?" He didn't answer. She sighed. "No Spence, you need to get through this. You can't let this poison the rest of your life."

She was right, of course. But you can know the right thing to do, dread it, and do it anyway. "I guess."

She shook her head and let it go.

* * *

 

They landed and pulled up to the tarmac. There was an SUV waiting, with a discrete resort logo on the side but no one around. "It's chilly." Spencer said as they unloaded their bags.

"Did you pack a sweater?" JJ asked.

"I didn't think of it, it was so warm in DC. I have a jacket and my windbreaker though." And truth was, he hadn't been thinking well at all.

JJ sighed. "I wasn't going to say anything but Rossi sent along one of his cards. He said to pick up whatever you forgot."

"Oh, no!" No, he was not going to do that.

"Oh, no, you have to. He'll be hurt if you don't, you know that."

"JJ..."

"Can it, Spence. This is the man who paid for everything for my wedding except my dress and my ring. We're his family; he gets off on spoiling us. Let him buy you a sweatshirt, it won't cost that much and it'll make him very happy. Where is the driver?"

Spencer gave it up. It wouldn't be a lot and it would make Dave happy. He looked around and spotted the envelope under the wiper on the SUV. "JJ." The note was addressed to him. Inside was a map of the area, with a route laid out, a set of keys and a note.

_Dear Dr. Reid,_

_We have found that our guests who come to us through the Harris Program prefer having a vehicle at their disposal. Consider this yours for the duration of your stay. In the glove compartment you will find proof of insurance, a card for fuel, a gate card, and roadside assistance information should you require it at any time._

_We look forward to your visit,_

_Marie Lancaster_   
_On-site Coordinator, Harris Program_   
_Twin Farms_

"Okay then." JJ said. "But I'm driving."

Spencer was not going to argue with her. They loaded up the car and headed out into the hills. "At normal speeds it should take us thirty minutes to get there. Turn left out of the airport."

* * *

 

After about thirty minutes they found the gate. It was tucked into the hills, very private and discrete. The card in the glove box opened the gate, and they followed the signs to the front entrance. The lobby was small, understated but elegant. They presented themselves to the woman at the tiny front desk, and went through the usual check-in procedure. They were informed that Ms. Lancaster would meet them at the Mill Cottage, where they would be staying, and given a map of the property. The drive was kind of windy, but it looked like there was a shorter walking trail to the main buildings. "When they say privacy they mean it." JJ said.

"No kidding." The cottage was the furthest away from the main buildings, well away from the rest of the resort, along the tumbling creek that flowed through the property and widened to a pond just there. The sound of the water was actually kind of soothing, Spencer thought.

They pulled in to the small parking area beside a stone cottage. An older, stout woman with red hair going grey approached them. "Dr. Reid? Agent Jareau? I'm Marie Lancaster. Welcome to Twin Farms." Introductions and murmured greetings and all of that and then she was leading them to the front door. "We set the Mill Cottage aside twice a year for Dr. Harris' use. It can hold up to six guests if needed but we're only expecting two for a longer stay. Come on in." The door led to a mudroom and then into a small entryway. On the left was a set of stairs going up to a second floor loft, on the right was a room partition. Tucked under the stairs was an alarm station. "The code is in the welcome packet." Marie said. "We ask that you leave it off during the day to make it easier on housekeeping."

"Oh Spence!" JJ said.

She had a point. As they walked in on the left were the stairs, a hall leading deeper into the building, and a small kitchen, all dark and sleek. Spencer noted a really nice coffee pot. Above all of that was a second floor loft. On the right were the living areas, an office space by the front door, a small game table, and a comfortable seating arraignment with a discrete TV set. In the far corner of the room was an enormous fieldstone fireplace, the chimney stretching up into the exposed rafters. But it was the right wall that caught your attention. It was all windows, two stories and more, looking over the mill pond and a small waterfall.

It was gorgeous.

Spencer drifted over to look. There were wood ducks floating on the water, under the boughs of the trees. They were the deep green of the very end of summer now, but here and there were bright glints of yellow. Fall was just around the corner, and this part of the county was known for the brilliance of the foliage. It was going to be beautiful out here for the next two months. He might even be able to see the first snowfall. There was a door in that wall, leading out to a balcony, with a table and chairs. There would be coffee out there, early, just him and the birds. He could feel something within him starting to unwind at the thought. If nothing else, he thought, a break would do him well.

"So." Marie caught their attention again. She gestured to the two desks over in the small office area. "We have cell service throughout the grounds but this is one of the few buildings with internet service. We have DOD quality security and video conference capability, in case you need to call home. Speaking of computers we ask that all program participants wear a fitness tracker." She passed over the bracelet to Spencer. "You're supposed to wear them 24/7, only take them off to bathe or swim that sort of thing."

"What about charging?" At least it was comfortable, and served for a watch well enough.

"There will be time for that. Now meals are included, the Harris Program comes with its own menu. They ask that everyone participating eat in the main restaurant for breakfast, lunch and dinner at the beginning of the program, there's a dining room set aside for your use. Breakfast is at eight, lunch at twelve, tea is served on the Lodge porch at four and dinner at eight. With the Harris Program all activities are included, including the wellness center and the full menu at the spa; however alcoholic beverages and use of the pub and wine cellar are not and are not recommended."

"That shouldn't be a problem." Spencer said. JJ nodded her agreement.

"This cottage does come with laundry facilities." Marie led them down the hall. Just past the stairs was a small laundry room. "Or you can use our laundry service. There are bags in the closets, just leave what you want done on the bed and housekeeping will pick it up and bring it back at turndown. Agent Jareau, this is your room." JJ had the room right behind the kitchen. It was as nice as the public rooms, pale colors with a small sitting area, a screen that separated that from the sleeping area, and past that a bathroom. "In this cottage every bedroom has one nightstand with a locker." Marie opened the bottom of the nightstand by the bathroom door to reveal a good sized gun safe. "This fob lets you reset the combination, we ask that you keep it with your keys and return it at the end of your stay so we can clear the combination for the next guest. If you choose to carry around the property we ask that you keep your weapon concealed at all times, for the comfort of our other guests."

"Of course." JJ said.

"Dr. Reid, you have a room upstairs. Daily schedules are left at breakfast; they're tailored to the need of each guest. We don't schedule anything before dinner on the first day so feel free to have a look around or run into town if you need to. We're about fifteen minutes from Woodstock Village, I highly recommend the Farmer's Market there if you want to stock the kitchen." Marie handed them each a packet and keys. "If you need anything else my number is in the packet. My husband and I live on site so I'm available 24/7. Don't hesitate to call."

"We won't." JJ said.

Marie took her leave and Spencer went up to see his room. Much like JJ's it had a seating area, a separate sleeping area and its own bathroom. His seating area was smaller, and his bed bigger. It was an enormous four-poster, piled high with fluffy bedding and pillows. His room came with a fireplace on the far side of the bed, and a peek showed a large, walk-in shower and a bathtub about as big as the pond outside. But none of that was the best part.

The room was _lined_ in books.

And not just decorative books either. A look at a few titles revealed that many had been selected to fit the interests he had listed on the intake forms just yesterday. They must have spent half the night fitting out this library. It was more than a little magical. I don't want to do this, he thought, but at least I'll be comfortable while I'm doing it.

"So what are we doing this afternoon?" JJ called up the stairs.

"Let's go get coffee."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 0**

Spencer and JJ drove into the nearby town. It had the New England Village thing going perfectly, small and quaint and cozy with a nice vibe to it. The Farmer's Market produced the few groceries Spencer wanted, as well as the potential for lunch. Not that he was hungry but JJ needed to eat.

But before they bought groceries JJ dragged him further into town, right up to a barber shop. "May I remind you that the Unsub gave you that haircut." She said before he could protest. She had a point so he didn't. She pulled him in and sat him down. "Fix this." She said to the barber.

"I kinda like it long." He said.

"Yeah, but we want you to look thirty, not thirteen." She replied.

"Say no more." The barber said.

"And while you do that I'm going to check out the town." JJ said. She practically skipped out.

Spencer took off his glasses and gave up.

"She your wife?" The barber asked.

"Sister." It was their usual cover. It was a lot easier than explaining why the FBI was in town.

"That explains it." The barber said. Then he got to work.

Thirty minutes later JJ returned, just as the barber was finishing up. "Comb it like this." He showed Spencer who copied his actions, combing his hair to the side with his fingers. "Yeah. Best I could do there. What do you think?"

"Really nice." JJ said.

Spencer put his glasses on and nodded in agreement. He didn't look thirteen anymore. In fact he looked normal. Like nothing had happened. But what happened felt huge somehow, shouldn't it show?

"Come on." JJ said. "There's a general store down the street where we can get you a sweatshirt."

* * *

 

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**

In the end they picked up groceries, came back, put them away, and whoever he was rooming with still wasn't there. "Maybe they were driving." JJ said. "We are spoiled with that plane."

"This is true." Spencer agreed. He had indeed found a sweatshirt. Two, in fact, since they were on clearance and JJ insisted. Somehow this one made him look older, closer to his actual age. And still too normal.

They went for a walk, taking the long way to look everything over. It was a very nice place, lots of hiking trails, an enclosed swimming pool, tennis courts and a spa with a gym and class space just between their cottage and the main house. JJ stopped and signed up for a yoga class before breakfast. "Just because I can." She said. "Do you want to sign up for anything before breakfast?" She asked, looking over the menu of classes.

"Coffee." Spencer replied.

"Not a surprise there."

Eventually it was time to head to the main dining room for dinner. The main building was a centuries old farmhouse; Spencer had to duck through the doorway into the private dining room. "Why a private dining room?" JJ asked their waitress.

"We've found that our guests from the Harris Program tend to tell stories that turn stomachs three tables away." She replied.

JJ opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. "She has a point." She said to Spencer.

"Yes, I know..." All of a sudden his jaw dropped. "Ashley?"

The familiar blonde walked into the room with a smile. "Hey Dr. Reid." She was carrying a blazer which she draped over a chair.

"Spencer, please." She offered a hug, which he accepted. "Have you met JJ?"

"Yes." JJ said. "On the Valhalla case."

"That's right." Ashley replied.

They made small talk for a couple of minutes, but in the back of Spencer's mind all he could think was not Ashley, not Ashley, not Ashley.

After a couple of minutes the door opened and a boy came in. He looked to be all of sixteen, in jeans and a snug Henley shirt with the sleeves hooked over his thumbs. Spencer couldn't help but notice that he was quite good looking, what some would call pretty, with blond hair brushed forward to partially shield bright blue eyes that looked shyly down and away. He was slouched, drawn in to himself, self protective and lacking confidence. The kid practically screamed victim with that body language. He must attract predators for miles around.

"Um, this is a private group..." JJ began.

"Oh no, it's okay." Ashley said. She turned to the boy in question. "Is it clear?"

"Yeah." The boy answered in a soft, light, gentle voice that did nothing to improve his victim profile. "It's cool." Then he cleared his throat and smiled. He stood up straight, put his shoulder back, ran his fingers through his hair so it was suddenly a much more mature style and pulled on the blazer. All of a sudden he added ten years to his age and about twenty years to his confidence. "No familiar faces." He said in a deeper, mature voice. He met JJ's eyes with a smile, which he lost when he looked at Spencer. "Can't be too careful."

"SSA JJ Jareau, SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, SSA Eric Hoverland." Ashley said by way of introductions.

Hands were shaken all around. "That's an impressive performance. So how long since you came out from under cover?" JJ asked. Granted like Spencer she probably already had a pretty good idea of the answer.

"Four days." Eric replied. They moved over to sit at the table while they talked. "We busted a major trafficking ring. They were going after homeless teen boys. Were, key word."

"Nice."

"JJ and Spencer are with the BAU." Ashley said.

"Oh. So you two are insane." Eric replied. His micro expressions said joke, even if it his humor was a dry as Hotch's.

"It's not that bad." JJ said.

"It's totally that bad." Ashley replied.

The waitress came in just then, offering ice tea or lemonade. "So, I have to double check dining preferences." She said. "No food allergies, there was one medical condition..." The group gestured to JJ who pointed to her stomach. "Right, one mom in the making, congratulations by the way. And two of you won't eat chili, or anything similar?"

"Please no." Spencer said.

"Why no chili?" Eric asked.

"Never ask the BAU a why question." Ashley replied.

"Why not?"

"Floyd Feylinn Ferell." JJ said.

"He was a cannibal who ran a BBQ restaurant in Florida." Spencer said. "He ground up one of her last victims and used her meat to make chili which he served to the volunteers from her church who were looking for her."

The waitress was coming over with drinks, now she stopped. "See, that's why you all are eating in here."

* * *

 

Dinner was excellent. The chef customized it to everyone's favorite. It was the most amazing mac and cheese Spencer had ever tasted, laced with bacon, the rest of the meal a perfect compliment, and the peach crumble with ice cream was heavenly.

It was all ashes in Spencer's mouth. He barely ate three bites. He didn't deserve it and he felt guilty for enjoying it.

Thankfully the company made up for it. He and JJ swapped stories with Ashley and Eric. Eric turned out to be 26, three years in the Bureau, coming off his first under cover case. It had been Ashley's first as well. Gave them all a lot to talk about. Or at least it gave Ashley and JJ a lot to talk about, Eric was quiet all evening.

When they got back to the cottage JJ was tired, which didn't surprise anyone. Eric seemed kind of nervous around him for some reason, and the one time he'd tried going out with Ashley it had not gone well so she probably didn't want to spend social time with him either. It was better to just go to bed.

Spencer's bed was soft and deep and cradled him like a cloud.

Not Ashley, He thought. Not Ashley.

He kept thinking that as he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the inspiration for the romantic interest in this one was a real-world friend of mine we'll call A. A is one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet. Always there to help someone in need, always trying to make the world a better place. A. ran the LGBT center in our local uni for years, and really made it a home away from home for a lot of people who needed it. If Spencer Reid was a real person and gay I would totally want to hook him up with A. Unfortunately A. has moved away from our sleepy college town. He is taking his brand new Masters in Environmental Sciences and going to go save the Pacific Northwest rain forest. If anyone can do it he can.
> 
> Anyway, when I pictured Eric I was picturing A, at least somewhat, personalty and looks-wise. But A. is not a public figure and would not appreciate my sharing his picture. So when it came time for casting I went looking for someone who looked as much like A as I could get.
> 
> Enter Clark Bockelman, who models for Calvin Klein.
> 
> https://format-com-cld-res.cloudinary.com/image/private/s--Wh2KonnK--/c_limit,g_center,h_65535,w_550/a_auto,fl_keep_iptc.progressive,q_95/242059-11768186-AI8A2110_jpg.jpg
> 
> And who could be A's brother. Seriously.
> 
> When he first walked into the dining room, and looked like he does undercover.
> 
> http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3fcLOID3vjs/UjbfzO_QBVI/AAAAAAAAKPI/iJT0tB1jji4/s1600/DSC_1038.gif
> 
> When he straightened his hair and put on his jacket.
> 
> https://67.media.tumblr.com/313b8ab616f63f84a401e51fee49be5d/tumblr_mv3ysgFOTv1qcpyafo1_500.jpg
> 
> And the obligatory cold shower shot.
> 
> https://66.media.tumblr.com/e5be88c481a2219405e7d4e04de6feac/tumblr_njce0qmVTg1r2lupvo1_500.jpg
> 
> Yeah.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 1**

The next morning Spencer woke up to an empty cottage.

He knew JJ was booked into a yoga class, Ashley and Eric likely went to work out as well. Spencer took his coffee out to the balcony and watched the sun come up over the mill pond. He had never been to a place this peaceful in his life. It was wonderful. He drank his coffee and watch the birds and tried not to analyze why this place for this purpose. He didn't want to think about it just yet.

Eventually Eric and Ashley came back from their run and JJ from her class and everyone got dressed and they went down to breakfast. The sourdough French toast was thick and fluffy, the sausage was local and notably tasty, and the syrup was naturally real maple. Spencer managed about five bites before he nearly choked.

Besides each plate they found a folder with an agenda for the day. Spencer had psychological assessment in the morning in the Lakeside meeting room in the Lodge, lunch, then physical assessment in the Wellness Center a little while after. That was slated to take up most of the afternoon, then after tea he would go back to the Lodge for more testing. None of it was surprising.

They discussed Bureau gossip over breakfast, then headed out as teams since JJ had to make a stop. "OK, I am headed to the Lodge." JJ said.

"So am I." Spencer replied.

"Birch meeting room?"

"Lakeside meeting room."

"Okay."

A covered bridge linked the two buildings. The Lodge was fairly new construction, lots of windows and Spencer didn't have to duck through doors. JJ's room was upstairs so they parted in the lobby and he followed the map to the meeting room.

It was nice as far as conference rooms go. Better furnishings than what you found in most police stations. And two walls were all windows, looking out over the larger lake on the property. They even had coffee set up on one side. A long table down the center was set for two testing stations. Spencer built a cup of coffee and went to start in on the one with his name on it.

  * Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale
  * Wechsler Test of Adult Reading
  * Rivermead Behavioral Memory Test
  * Delis-Kaplan Executive Function System
  * Dean-Woodcock Neuropsychology Assessment System
  * Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory
  * Millon Clinical Multiaxial Inventory - Fourth Edition



The list went on. All in all it was a very thorough stack. He found none of it at all surprising or out of the ordinary. He expected that whomever he was working with would go over the results while he was getting his physical and tailor the next set of tests to fit. There was some comfort in knowing what was going on. He started at the top, picked up the appropriate writing tool and turned to the first question.

Because he was answering Spencer didn't look up when he heard the door open and someone building coffee and settling at the other testing station. He didn't look up until the other person spoke. "So, BAU." Eric said. "You know how to cheat on these, right?"

Eric. Not Ashley. Ashley had to be here for the same reason JJ was, to brief the therapist on the case that triggered all of this. Eric. Not Ashley. "Of course."

"Awesome."

"Granted we are all insane. Probably shouldn't cheat off me."

"Good point."

At least they could start with a joke, right? Unfortunately it didn't last. When Eric reached for a pencil Spencer looked over automatically at the movement. The other man's cuff had ridden up just a little, revealing layers of restraint bruises. We're here for a reason, Spencer though, both of us. He bent his head over his tests again.

* * *

 

The Birch Room was all the way at the end of the second floor hallway. JJ noticed from the plaque on the wall that it was reserved for the next eight weeks to a J. Walker. It looked like the room across the hall was reserved for the next eight weeks as well. Therapists' offices, JJ thought. She knocked just in case, and entered when invited.

It was a nice room for the purpose. The corner was all windows, with a door leading out to a balcony. It overlooked the lake through a stand of birch trees. Two chairs, lamps, small coffee table. A table serving as a desk in the corner, laptop, file crate. Counter for coffee service. She noticed that felt boards had been hung on three walls, but they were currently empty. And then the woman in the room was rising to greet her. "Agent Jareau?" She asked.

"Yes."

A hand was offered. "Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Janice Walker. So you're here to tell me what you know about Dr. Reid?"

Huh? "I thought I was here to brief you on the Jenkins case?"

"We'll be starting there." Janice indicated the chair across from her. "I have quite a few questions."

JJ took a deep breath. Sorry Spence, she thought, but you need help. This is the best thing for you. I just hope you're not too angry with me later.

* * *

 

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

"Sir." Penelope caught up with Hotch in the hallway. "So JJ is being debriefed by the shrink who is supposed to fix Reid somehow this morning and she asked for some case files to share."

"Which ones?" In reply Penelope handed him her tablet. It was a longer list than they expected. "Not that one." Hotch said. "National security. You can fax the rest."

"Yes sir."

* * *

 

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**

They met up again at lunch time. Marvelous butter chicken, fresh naan bread, all the sides you would expect. Spencer couldn't even choke it down.

They chatted about nothing much over lunch. Afterwards Spencer was able to split JJ off from the others. "So what's she like?"

"Very professional. Very thorough." She winced a little. "You're not going to have a lot of secrets left here. I'm sorry."

He sighed. "I don't know. It feels like something has been building for a while. Maybe it's good that I'm finally getting it done."

"I think it is. You know, just work with it. After today this is totally separate from the team and the Bureau, all she is going to do is tell Hotch if you're cleared to return to the field, the standard form, that's it. So, you know what they say, what happens in Vegas..."

He chuckled. "Thank you. That's, that's very helpful."

* * *

 

After lunch JJ and Ashley went back for more debriefing. Spencer and Eric changed clothes and headed to the Wellness Center, which was part spa, part gym, and came with a small doctor's office. They'd arranged for a doctor to come out and give the participants a thorough physical.

Spencer let them poke him and prod him for a while. He dutifully peed in a cup and ran on a treadmill. He let them take all the blood they wanted. He talked about his knee and his headaches and told them what he could about his lungs. None of it was really surprising or more intrusive than he expected.

In the end he was pronounced a reasonably healthy 33 year old. A little underweight, a little out of shape, a bit of arthritis in his knee, truly crappy vision and a possible tendency toward something asthma-like in cold weather but there was nothing horribly wrong with him. In fact the doctor filled out the form to give him medical clearance to return to the field, so that was covered and JJ could report that back to Hotch.

After they showered and changed they met up with JJ and Ashley as they were getting ready to head home. "I don't have to take the train!" Ashley said.

"We would have flown you two up here." JJ replied.

"We didn't even think of it."

Then it was time to say good bye. "Do this." JJ said. "Take care of yourself. Get through it and get back. We're going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too." All of them. The team was his family.

"Is there anything else I can do before I go?"

Spencer looked down at her stomach. "Don't let him out before I get back."

JJ laughed. "Yeah, well, you're pushing my due date so don't dawdle." She hugged him very tight. "You'll be okay."

"You will too." Then it was waving good-bye as the women headed off.

Spencer turned to head up to the lodge, only to see a brief glimpse of terror on Eric's face. But it was quickly gone, covered with a near perfect mask. Spencer decided not to think about that right now.

They walked back to the lakeside room in silence. Another round of tests were waiting. Spencer built a mug of tea and sat to have a look.

  * Arizona Sexual Experience Scale
  * Bem Sex-Role Inventory
  * Derogatis Sexual Function Inventory
  * Erotic Preferences Examination Scheme
  * Hendrick Sexual Attitude Scale
  * International Index of Erectile Function



"I didn't think hell would be this attractive." Eric said.

Spencer groaned. This was going to be a long eight weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for the other important OC I'm going to go with Kerri Washington for Dr. Janice Walker
> 
> https://pmcdeadline2.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/washingtonkerry__130718174844.png


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 1**

The tests were embarrassing. Spencer wanted to squirm in his seat, or go yell at whoever thought this was a good idea or call Penelope to get him out of here. But no, he sat and filled out forms and answered everything honestly. He had to do this. He wasn't sure why but somehow he knew that it was now or never and never was a very bad place to be.

Eventually he finished, before Eric. Likely well before. He put everything away with a little sigh, and then picked up his bundle. There was a box in the back of the room, locked, where he was supposed to leave everything, just like this morning. "I, um, guess I'll see you at dinner." He said.

"Yeah." Eric replied. "I'm almost done here."

Spencer headed back to the main house. There were a number of places to find mild entertainment around the property, including tables set up for various games. Spencer found one older gentleman sitting at a chess board. He asked if the man played, got an offer of a game in return, and spent the thirty minutes before dinner not thinking of what he had just done.

Dinner finally rolled around. Eric looked like he had just come in. Somehow the other man looked younger than he had when Ashley and JJ were there. Or maybe more nervous. Spencer was the senior agent, it was kind of up to him to break the ice. "Okay, now I wish there was a way to cheat on those tests." He said.

Thankfully Eric broke out in laughter. "I know, right." Eric said. "I am not looking forward to tomorrow."

"Neither am I."

They both looked up as the first course came out. Eric had a pile of greens with a rainbow of tomatoes, slivers of other vegetables, olives and some dressing Spencer could smell from across the table. Spencer had lettuce with a sprinkle of vinegar, and about half as much. They both looked but neither of them said anything.

"So, um," Spencer looked up at Eric, only to find the younger man blushing. "Got any more good case stories? Maybe ones that don't involve cannibalism? Or, you know, sex."

Spencer thought about this. Taking sex out of the equation limited the number of cases, but... "Have you ever heard of Capgras syndrome?"

"No."

Spencer went on to tell the story of Luke Dolan and what had happened to him. He didn't mind doing most of the talking, Eric was a rapt audience and it distracted him from his food. So much so that he managed to eat all of his salad, the first time he'd cleaned a plate in days.

He was just getting to the point where Dolan was killing his parents when the server brought in the main course. Eric had some gorgeously grilled chicken coated in a rich sauce, with grilled vegetables and crispy potatoes laced with bacon. Spencer had a plain, baked breast, steamed squash and mashed potatoes. Again, about half the serving, and served on a white plate. It looked like cafeteria food.

"Okay, who did you piss off?" Eric asked.

"No idea." But Spencer didn't mind. There was no reward here, no pleasure he didn't deserve. It was simply fuel, easy enough to choke down. "I don't mind." He said. "So then Dolan..."

Eric was served dessert. Spencer wasn't.

It was a relief.

* * *

 

They ended up walking back to the cottage in silence. There was a basket hanging on the door, there had been when they arrived, but now there was a note in it, addressed to Eric. "I'm meeting a running partner in the morning." He said. "One of the guys from the gym."

He was trying to school his face but he could only do so well. "What's wrong?" Spencer asked.

"Nothing." Eric answered .25 seconds too quickly. "Why?"

"You're scared."

"No I'm not." Spencer waited. Eric sighed. "Okay, how do you know that?"

"BAU. We read minds, remember." Spencer replied. Eric stared at him a few minutes before bursting out laughing. "Your microexpressions were giving it away." Although they were remarkably well controlled.

"Yeah, well, long case."

And somehow that translated into this fear. Spencer wasn't going to ask, he didn't want to talk about his issues, why should Eric talk about why he was here. But Spencer did know what made agents in general feel safer. "What do you usually carry?"

"Glock 17, why?"

"Is that all?"

"Yeah."

"Kind of hard to take on a run."

Eric's fear shone through a little further. "I don't have it with me. Andi kept it."

That was unusual. "I have my back-up, if it would make you feel more comfortable."

Eric looked surprised at that. "Um, yeah, I probably shouldn't. But thank you though." There was an awkward pause, then Eric said. "Well, you know, I'm going to head for bed."

"Sure."

"I'll turn out the lights downstairs."

"Okay."

"Yeah. Good night."

"Good night."

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later, as Spencer, now in pajamas, was browsing through the bookshelves, he heard a noise from downstairs. He stuck his head out to listen more closely and heard familiar music.

Familiar theme music.

A peek over the balcony revealed the mystery. Spencer pulled on his robe and slippers and went down to the sitting area by the cold fire. Eric, also in pajamas, was sitting on the couch nibbling on something in a bowl. The television was tuned to BBC America. He looked like a cornered cat as Spencer came around to the seating area, his eyes wide with fear. Spencer deliberately sat all the way on the other end of the couch to be less threatening.

After a minute Eric said, "I thought you were in bed."

"Not yet." Spencer waited a minute. "So, which one is your favorite?"

"The Tenth. Yours?"

"The Fourth."

"Ahhh. Old school."

"Yeah." Eric was relaxing a little. Spencer decided to try something. "I actually knit a scarf to cosplay the Fourth Doctor for conventions."

"Really?" Eric looked surprised and delighted. "That's awesome."

"What part? That I knit, do cosplay or go to sci-fi conventions?"

"All of it." The familiar theme music started playing. "Just promise me you'll never tell anyone back home about this. Especially Ashley. She hates Dr. Who."

"That's probably my fault."

"Good to know."

Spencer smiled a little. "You're secret is safe with me."

Eric gave him a shy, real smile. "Thanks."

"Of course." Spencer couldn't help smiling himself as they turned back to the TV.

* * *

 

When the show was over they went off to bed again, quietly. Spencer stopped to make sure the coffee pot was set for the morning.

When he went past Eric's room he heard the door lock.

O-kay.

Now he was curious. And there was one person he could call who might have an answer. He went to his room, locked the door, and sent off a quick text message. Thankfully it was answered. He had just enough time to get his laptop open before it was chiming an incoming video call. "Hey." He said. "Thank you. Hopefully I didn't wake you."

Ashley looked like she was in bed already. Her hair was up, there were pillows behind her and she was wearing an old Academy t-shirt. At least she was alone. "Nope. I was reading. So what's up?"

"I wanted to ask what's going on with Eric? I know you can't tell me everything, but he said Andi kept his service weapon. She wouldn't have done that unless something serious was going on. And he's acting like he's afraid of me."

Ashley sighed. "Damn it. Okay, what's your clearance?"

"I can't tell you."

"Excuse me?"

"I do side assignments for the NSA and CIA sometimes. You don't have the clearance to know my clearance."

Ashley stared at him for a moment, and then started laughing. "Only you." She said. "Okay, this is classified."

"Of course."

"The last trafficker we busted? One of his clients was a Unit Chief."

Oh. _Shit_. "FBI unit chief?"

"Yeah. Who is in the process of getting fired and busted and everything else that is way above my pay grade. But Eric ended up with him at the end, and because he of the countermeasures he used it took us longer to get to him than we expected."

"Ouch." Longer. That meant more and worse abuse.

"Yeah. Which apparently dug up a bunch of stuff from Eric's past that none of us knew about. When we pulled him out it was me and Andi and another woman from our unit, all the way to the hospital, and he was okay, you know. Andi asked for female personnel in the hospital and he was good. He was discharged, I took him home and he was fine. His first day back at work, we were at the coffee pot, one of the guys came up and tapped him on the shoulder and Eric had some kind of flashback, freaked out and drew on him. So Andi disarmed him and sent him up to her aunt."

"Greaaaaat. So is he afraid of all men or just male FBI agents?"

"Not sure. But I wouldn't arm him again just yet."

"I won't. Thanks for sharing."

"Anytime I can. Have fun."'

"Yeah. Good night."

Spencer rang off and went to bed wondering what he could do to help. If anything at all.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 2**

Spencer came down stairs in the morning and found Eric leaning against the counter, staring at the front door. "Um good morning?"

"'morning." Eric replied.

Emotion was rolling off Eric. And now Spencer knew what it was. "Nervous?"

For a moment Eric's face showed his fear, then that professional, slightly rakish façade fell one more. "I just don't want to get moving this morning." He said. "It's a vacation. I don't see why we can't sleep in. I mean we have a kitchen, all the comforts of home, right?"

"True." And that would be possible mild agoraphobia, likely triggered by a fear of men. If he didn't leave the house he wouldn't have to worry about it. "You could stay home. You don't have to follow their directions."

For a moment Eric looked so tempted. But he took a deep breath. "Yeah, I do."

A couple of minutes later there was a tapping on the front door. Outside a woman in athletic gear was waiting. Eric looked visibly relieved. "See you at breakfast, yeah?"

"Yeah." Spencer watched him go, added up this morning and yesterday. It was unlikely that Eric's fear stemmed solely from his recent undercover work. His control over his microexpressions spoke of years of child abuse. Did the one stem from the other? And if so why go into undercover work at all?

What exactly was he afraid of? And is there something buried that deeply that's affecting me as well?

Spencer considered that option over coffee as he watched the ducks on the lake.

* * *

 

Breakfast came eventually. Eric had scrambled eggs with pancakes, bacon and some fruit compote. The pancakes came with butter and real maple syrup and the compote was warmed and spiced. Spencer had scrambled eggs with wheat toast and cantaloupe. The toast came with a tiny container of margarine. "You really cheesed off someone." Eric said.

"That's okay, I'm not that hungry."

"You don't have to eat."

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

 

Time for the hammer of doom to fall.

According to Spencer's schedule he had a meeting in the Birch Room with Dr. Walker from breakfast to lunch, then a big block of empty time from lunch to tea, and after tea he was to meet with Dr. Walker again until dinner. It was all simple enough. Now he just had to get in there and meet with Dr. Walker.

Eric stood outside the door on the other side of the hall, likely for the same reason. "Well." He said, finally.

"Yeah."

"You run into trouble shoot twice. I'll come help."

Okay, that was worth a laugh. "You do the same."

"Got it." And Eric opened the door and went in.

Well hell. Spencer took a deep breath, tapped on the door, and opened it. "Dr. Walker?"

"Dr. Reid." She was a professionally dressed woman, somewhere between 25 and 50 and she offered her hand as he came in. "Nice to meet you. Please plug in your fitness tracker to charge. Want some coffee?"

"Sure, thank you." Spencer plugged the watch in to the adaptor on a table by the door. He couldn't help but notice the large sugar container over by the coffee pot. "Ummm.."

"Your reputation precedes you. When you're ready have a seat and we'll get started."

"What exactly are we doing?" As he built his coffee he noticed a folding table in front of the window. It was loaded down with very familiar office supplies. And the walls that didn't have windows had felt boards.

"You are going to figure out what's bothering you and what you want to do about it. I am going to keep you on-track and provide fresh eyes while you do it."

"What makes you think something is bothering me?"

"Your input doesn't match your output, your sleep cycles don't synch with your household data, your medical history shows a re-occurring problem and the people who love you are concerned."

"Excuse me?"

Dr. Walker pointed to the fitness tracker. "There are computers tucked away in several corners around the complex. That thing updates whenever it gets in range of one of them. In the past two days you've burned about 2400 calories a day. That's the expected burn rate for someone of your height, weight, age and activity level. Most healthy people will eat about what they burn naturally. But according to the kitchen you've been eating less than 1200 calories a day, even with your favorites to tempt you. You're not eating."

Wait a minute. "You've had me under observation this whole time?"

Dr. Walker smiled. "Welcome to the Harris Program."

"I could be eating outside of mealtimes."

"Not according to housekeeping." She consulted her notes. "While you're currently physically healthy the medical staff found indications of episodes of malnutrition in the past. That would be understandable if you came from a place with periodic food shortages. Given that Las Vegas is home to the five dollar all-you-can-eat buffet it doesn't count. You're not eating now and there have been times in your life that you stopped eating before now. According to your medical records it was noted after you were hospitalized for some illness, you were treated at Walter Reed."

"I was on Baclofen both times, nausea is a side effect."

"But both times you were an adult. Your body and medical history shows signs of malnutrition during childhood and adolescence. This happened before you ever heard of Baclofen."

"I don't remember."

"You have an eidetic memory and you don't remember?"

"No."

"Have there been other events in your life you haven't remembered?" Spencer nodded, so Dr. Walker continued. "You're also not sleeping well, the fitness tracker keeps track of movements at night and correlates them with the smart electronics in the cottage to show when you turn your lights out. And your friends are concerned. Now you tell me, Doctor, what's your diagnosis?"

Spencer took a deep breath. "Eating disorder co-morbid with PTSD." Dr. Walker held up the packet of tests he'd taken last night. "Okay, eating disorder and sexual dysfunction co-morbid with PTSD. Similar reactions likely indicate similar triggers every time. Except I don't think it's PTSD. I can think of a number of cases where I know I had PTSD-like symptoms after and I kept eating." Being held hostage in La Playta came to mind. Being shot. Emily dying. Gideon dying. Maeve dying.

Dr. Walker checked her notes. "And you have been eating the plainer stuff. Are you punishing yourself?" Spencer swallowed twice, then nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know. I...I can't think of a good reason. I protected JJ and Michael, there's no reason to feel guilty about that."

"But you do?"

"Yeah." When did his voice get so small.

"Guilt and shame are components of PTSD, the diagnosis still holds. But why did some experiences produce guilt and shame and others did not?

"Good question."

"So where do we go from here Doctor?" Dr. Walker asked.

"Trace the number of instances, find the commonality." He gestured to the table and the felt boards. "That's what these tools are for?"

"I thought working in a familiar pattern would help. Let's start with the most current case."

They tore apart the Jenkins case over the next few hours. Spencer was able to give a detailed description of everything that happened, right up until his last night with the Unsub. "He had a room set up exactly like my room in Blacker House." Spencer said. "There was a tablet on top of the dresser, next to a gift bag."

"What was in the bag?"

Okay, this was weird. Spencer remembered reaching for the bag, opening it... "I don't remember."

"What don't you remember?"

"Any of it."

"What do you remember?"

"Waking up in the hospital the next morning. I was having an overstimulation reaction, that's why I asked for Baclofen."

"How did you end up over stimulated?"

"I don't know.  I thought I knew, but now I can't remember."

"How did you end up over stimulated when you were in Walter Reed?"

"I don't know."

"According to the notes from the doctor of record you stopped eating. She had to speak to you about it. Do you remember that?"

"Yes. She needed my help to work on a problem; I needed to be healthy for that."

"So you started eating again for her benefit."

"Yes."

"When it comes to eating disorders we follow the Mausdley protocol. Likely simply by getting you to eat anything, for any reason, she kept you from losing enough weight to slip into starvation psychosis and from there full blown Anorexia Nervosa."

"Very likely."

"Is that what happened this time?"

"I wasn't eating, Garcia was upset about it. I said I would try for her."

"All right then." Dr. Walker stood and turned to the table full of office supplies. "How do you like to take your notes?"

"Um, clip board, legal pad, pencil?"

She handed him all of it. "You might have noticed that you have nothing scheduled in the afternoon block."

"I did. I was going to see what activities were available."

"None."

"What?"

"None. All of the activity directors have been instructed to shut you out. There are two thousand acres out there, go find a quiet spot and think in it. Come up with a list of all the times someone has begged you to eat for one reason or another. And when you're done with that come up with four to six times you should have had PTSD but you didn't lose your appetite."

Ah. "Okay."

"Don't forget your fitness tracker. Oh, and while I'll be complicit with your punishment by keeping the food plain, do try to eat it. I don't want you getting sick on me."

"All right."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 2**

Lunch came. Spencer had tuna fish on wheat, carrot sticks, grapes, plain potato chips. Enough calories in food he could ignore. That would due until he sorted this out. Eric had some reading with him, so lunch was a quiet thing.

After lunch Spencer brought cold water with him out into the woods. He found two chairs and a small table overlooking the creek. It was a peaceful sort of place, quite conducive to thinking. For a moment he had to admire the program, letting him contemplate was exactly what was needed right now.

At tea time he was given a banana and some plain green tea, and then it was time to go back to Dr. Walker. "I have a list." He said. "I believe it's complete."

"Good." She said. "You know what we're doing, right?"

"When you delete a file from a computer it's not really deleted, you actually remove the index reference so the computer can't find it again when it goes looking for it. In a person with an eidetic memory it works much the same way, you can't actually forget the memory, but you can forget that it exists. Or block it out in the case of trauma. I was actually able to retrieve a forgotten memory under hypnosis once."

"We might go there if we have to, but I prefer not to use hypnosis if possible. You risk re-traumatization that way. All right." Dr. Walker waved at the board. "Let's see what you have. Start with the most recent and go backward, with dates if you can."

Spencer moved to the table, but then he stopped. "There's one thing you have to know first."

"What's that?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm an addict." He admitted. "It started with exposure during a case, but I didn't follow proper protocol after. I've been clean since 2007, I still drop in at an NA meeting back in DC from time to time. I've worked through it but it's going to come up."

Dr. Walker didn't look at all perturbed. "All right. Thank you for being up front about it. Like everything else we discuss it will be kept in confidence."

"Thank you." All right then. "I have Garcia asking me to eat when I was in the hospital after the Jenkins case." He put that up on the board. "Then when I was in the hospital after the Nichols case. The doctor there had to encourage me." And that went up. "Then after the Hankle case, the one I spoke of. My sponsor noticed that I wasn't eating, he pestered me until I started again."

"Good for him."

"Before that there was a time in college. I was thirteen, I had moved in with my sponsor family not too long before. Margaret noticed that I wasn't eating. She was concerned, but she got me to eat by telling me that I was hurting her husband's feeling by not eating his cooking."

"Was he a good cook?"

"An excellent one as I recall. Before that it was Aunt Ethel. It was Christmas, she noticed that I wasn't eating and that I was skinnier and smaller than I should be. She was concerned that Mom wasn't taking care of me, so I started eating again so she would leave us alone. And before that I was seven, Dad caught me not eating. He told me I had to eat to grow big and strong." Spencer put the last note up on the board.

"Okay, now step back. Look at this like a professional. What stands out? What's the pattern?"

Spencer stepped back and looked. It immediately jumped out at him. "Cases." He said. "All but one of these are associated with a case file somehow." He started with the oldest. "The day after the Jenkins case resolved. Three days after the Nichols case resolved. Two months after the Hankle case. Six weeks after the first Jenkins incident. This one..."

"What?"

"It's not technically a case. There was a pretty bad bullying incident at school..."

"Were you the victim?" Dr. Walker asked. Spencer nodded. "Did what happened veer into the illegal?" He nodded again. "Then call it a case."

"Okay, two months after the...the Lisbon case. And this one was a month after the Gary Michaels murder."

"All right. Now, do you have any that you feel should have resulted in this sort of PTSD reaction, but didn't?"

"Yes. Let's go with the Dowd case, the Meyers case, the Mallick case, the Valhalla case, and the Turner case."

"I don't think I have those, but we can get them." Dr. Walker said. "Let's put placeholders up on the board for now, on the other side." Spencer set about that. When he was done he stepped back. "Okay, so what do these cases have in common that those do not?"

"I don't know." Spencer replied.

"Well, we're going to spend the next several meetings figuring that out."

* * *

 

He and Eric didn't speak much at dinner. "You know they're observing us, right?" Eric asked as they walked back to the cottage."

"Yeah."

"Little creepy."

"Yeah. But useful."

"Yeah." They walked in silence for a while, then Eric spoke up again. "So I found out that my life revolves around places where I used to live. You?"

"Case files."

They laughed all the way to the cottage together.

* * *

 

Later that night Spencer heard a familiar sound again. Only this time it wasn't coming from the TV.

He went to Eric's door and started knocking. "Eric? Eric!"

No answer. Just those distressing sounds.

The door locks were the kind that could be opened with a likely long, thin tool. A lock pick would do. Good thing Spencer always had his picks with him. Within moments he had the door open. "Eric? Eric! Eric!" Thankfully Eric woke without Spencer having to touch him. He came too wide eyed, staring. "You were having a nightmare."

"What? What?" Eric looked around him. "Where am I?"

"Vermont. Twin Farm. Mill Cottage."

Eric raked his fingers through his hair. "Right. Thank you."

"Sure." Spencer turned to go, but he stopped. "Just so you know, I'm not going to come into your room and hurt you. I know it'll take a while to trust that, but I won't."

"Yeah." Spencer could see the emotions battling in Eric's eyes. "Ashley said you were one of the good ones."

"I'll have to thank her for that."

"Wait, how did you get in here?"

"I have five sets of lock picks with me."

"Why?"

"BAU remember. Read minds, do magic. Ask Ashley about that. Good night." Spencer went back to his room, closing the door behind him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 5**

When Spencer came down in the morning he found Eric waiting for his running buddy and looking at his phone. "Magic?" He asked.

In reply Spencer reached over and pulled a quarter out of Eric's ear, then made it disappear.

Eric chuckled. "Son of a bitch. Magic."

* * *

 

They worked at it steadily, tearing apart two cases every day, one in the morning and one in the evening. But after three days and six cases Spencer still didn't feel like he was getting anywhere. And the guilt was still eating at him. That said he probably could have worked while doing this, but with his schedule it would have taken months to even get this far. Taking some time out to focus was likely a good idea.

At least it wasn't disabling him. Which was how he ended up in town on this particular Sunday, here to run a few errands. Stop at the post office, the stationers, the general store because they should have a treat he could send a certain little boy, likely should do the post office after that...

He had the fiber arts shop on his list, but what he didn't expect was to run in to a familiar figure standing in front of it. Almost literally. "Oh. Hi." Spencer said.

Eric jumped a little, looked afraid for a moment. "Hi."

Spencer mentally recalled his last few steps. Eric had been standing in front of the shop, staring in the windows. Possibly for a while now. Also, if he didn't deliberately try to look older Eric did indeed look very young.

"So, in town for church?" Eric asked. He went back to staring in the window of the shop.

"No, I'm actually still debating where I stand when it comes to religion."

"Debating?"

"I was raised Agnostic but my experiences through the BAU have led me to question further. As we like to say, if there is a source of evil in this world then there must be a source of good."

"Is there evil in this world?"

"Based on some of our cases, it's not unlikely. And I had a near-death experience once, more than once, which has lead me to believe that there actually is something beyond this life."

"I thought those were just people hallucinating in emergency rooms."

"The problem being that I was alone in an unlit shack in Georgia the first time and in a shipping yard in Texas the third. I assume there was a second in there, but I don't remember it and if there was then I was in an ambulance and ER, so it can't count against the theory."

"Ah. Wait." Eric turned to look at him again. "You've died three times?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"How?"

"The first time I had a heart attack, the second is classified and the third time I was shot in the neck." Spencer folded down his collar to show the scar.

Eric looked suitably shocked. "Whoa."

"Yeah, I probably need this time off. Were you in town for church?"

"No. I am very, very ex-Mormon."

"Oh."

"Not the main church. My folks are members of an offshoot."

"Okay." Spencer considered this. "As I understand most offshoots of the Mormon faith encourage very strict gender roles."

"That they do."

Spencer looked at the shop. "You want to learn that sort of thing, don't you?" The shop covered multiple disciplines; he wasn't certain which one had Eric's attention.

"Yeah. Since I was a kid. Also, stop reading my mind."

"Can't help it." Spencer went and opened the door. "Come on." He said.

Eric looked more than a little fearful. "I don't..."

"In my experience women who run craft shops rarely bite. Come on." He could see Eric wavering. "I'm just going to stand here with the door open."

Eric looked around as if to see if anyone was watching. It was a fairly busy street but everyone was going about their business. No one cared. "All right."

So they went inside and Eric looked around while Spencer asked the woman who worked there about the yarn and needles he'd need to make a blanket for Michael and some mismatched socks for Henry. When Spencer came back around he found Eric looking at a sweater vest with longing. "I just think it's cool." He said. "Kind of reminds me of home."

"I could teach you if you want to learn. I mean, not that. I'm not nearly that skilled yet, but you know, the basics." Henry's socks were going to be a challenge already.

Eric was considering hard here. "You don't think it's weird? I mean, for a guy?"

"I don't think it's weird at all. You know members of professional knitting guilds were all male until 1589 when the first knitting machine was invented. Only after that did it become a women's hobby."

"Really?" Eric looked around again. "I was thinking quilting too. I remember my sisters making quilts."

He sounded so wistful. "So make some kind of quilt too." Spencer said. "If anyone says anything I will personally lecture them for you."

Eric smiled. "Ashley told me about your lectures. Okay, where do I start?"

* * *

 

An hour later they left the shop with more yarn than either of them thought they would need, more needles than they would ever need, kits for making quilted coasters for coffee mugs, notions to make the coasters, boxes to hold the notions, instruction books, and cookies from one of the shop ladies who thought they were cute. After a few more errands they ended up at the Farmer's Market where they found baskets to hold all of 'this crafty stuff' as Eric was calling it. And then they went grocery shopping. "You know I'm not going to eat all of this." Spencer said as he looked over the basket. "I was just going to get coffee and half and half."

"Yeaaaah I kinda noticed. You disappear when you turn sideways you know."

"I'm not that bad yet."

"Yet. Come on." Eric said. "I'm buying you lunch."

"No, I'll buy lunch."

"Nope." Eric went and got in the deli line.

"I should buy lunch." Spencer protested.

"Why?"

"I make more than you do."

"You do?"

"Thirteen years to your three. Also three PhD's, I'm a GS 15 step 10, you're an 11 likely on step 3, I haven't looked at the pay tables in a few years but I make at least double what you do. So I should buy lunch."

"Good point. But I am still buying lunch."

"That makes no logical sense."

"True." Eric turned to him, and now Spencer knew what Garcia meant when she talked about puppy eyes. "You're not going to waste my hard earned money by not eating it, are you?"

And now he knew what the phrase 'that was cold' meant as well. "I'll go get us a table." Spencer replied. He headed for the patio area, right on the busy sidewalk.

Puppy eyes turned a little frightened. "I was going to head back that way." Eric gestured to the secluded back corner of the dining area.

"You're not going to make me eat alone, are you?" Spencer replied. The patio was at least 60 percent male at the moment. Two could play at that game. And from the look on Eric's face he knew it too.

They ended up at a table in a corner of the patio, enjoying the shade of an umbrella while they ate. "So is this the point where you tell me that most men don't randomly turn violent, even ones who aren't agents, and I'm perfectly safe out here?" Eric asked.

"If this is the point where you tell me I need to stop punishing myself by not eating." Spencer replied.

Right, they were both still a mess. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Eric said "So, how about those Mets?" Thankfully he laughed when Spencer did. "I just wish I felt like I was getting better."

Spencer sighed. "Same here. This is remarkably frustrating."

"Hopefully we'll get there."

* * *

 

In the end they went back to the hotel for dinner, and then back to the cottage for knitting lessons and a Dr. Who marathon. Eric picked up the general idea quickly enough, and decided to start his first project the next day after working on a practice piece all evening.

After Spencer turned off the light and laid his head on his pillow he realized it was the best day he'd had in a long time.

And then Eric had another nightmare.

Hopefully they would get there.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 9**

Two cases a day, six days, in the end Spencer and Dr. Walker tore apart every case. And they still couldn't find a pattern. "It's here. I know it's here." Spencer had become increasingly frustrated with the project as time went on. He should have gotten it already. He was better than this, damn it.

"Yes, we just haven't seen it yet." Dr. Walker went over her notes. "Okay, here's something we haven't looked at. Missing time."

"What do you mean?"

"Start with the most recent Jenkins case. You don't remember what happened from the time you walked into that mock dorm room until you woke up in the hospital the next day."

"No."

"Okay, going back in chronological order, the Mallick case. Are you missing any time there?"

The Mallick case. When they found Gideon's body at the cabin. "No." Grieving his mentor hadn't stopped him.

"Okay, the Turner case?"

The Turner case. Where he had lost Maeve. "No." Spencer said. He remembered every detail.

"The Valhalla case?"

When he thought Emily had been killed by Ian Doyle. "No." He remembered it like it was yesterday.

"The Meyers case?"

When he had been shot in the knee, and all the painful hours of repair and rehabilitation after. "No."

"The Nichols case? Think carefully on this one."

They had gone to Nichols house, he'd gone into the lab, saw the broken vial, locked himself in. Left a note for his Mom. Found the cure in the inhaler. Came out to go to the hospital. Shooed Morgan away. Woke up in the hospital to find that Morgan ate his Jell-o, the ass. Wait... "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I can't go into detail but I had to go through decontamination, for a biohazard exposure. I know it happened but I don't remember it."

"But something happened in there that triggered your need for Baclofen." Dr. Walker said.

"Yes. But I have no clue what."

"That's all right. The Hankel case?"

"Yes, but I was high as a kite."

"But you were able to communicate with your team, right in front of the Unsub. That tells me you were in control for most of it."

"Possibly. But then why don't I remember?"

"Good question. The Dowd case?"

His first kill. "No." He remembered every detail of that.

"Okay, the first Jenkins case."

"No."

"Are you sure?" Was he? It was so long ago. "Do you remember what Marjorie Jenkins looks like?"

That stopped Spencer. "No. I never met her."

"You never met her? Your Resident Advisor from your freshman year?"

Wait. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't. But you don't remember her at all?"

"No."

"Okay. Back further. The Lisbon case."

He was out in the field, they tied him up, dropped his pants, the kids were laughing, he was staggering in the door. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"I was cornered by a group of kids after school. They tied me to the goalpost. I don't remember what happened between the time they left me alone and getting home, when it was already dark."

"And when did this happen?"

"Early October."

"The sun sets at about 6:30 in early October. You would have gotten out of school by 3:30. That's a three hour gap at a minimum."

"I don't remember it."

"Okay. The Michaels case."

"I already know I don't remember it. I had to use hypnosis to remember what I did."

"What triggered your loss of memory?"

"I saw my father burning my mother's bloody clothes in the back yard."

"He let you get that close?'

"No, I was watching from behind the curtains inside the house."

"And you could tell that they were clothes? Her clothes? And they had blood on them?"

"I..." No, that wouldn't have been enough. "There must have been something else. But what? I still can't figure out what these cases have in common. They must have a similar trigger that made me blank my memory." He pulled out his phone.

"Who are you calling?' Dr. Walker asked.

"JJ. I need another set of eyes on this."

But JJ didn't answer. Penelope did. "Hey, boy wonder. What can I do you for?"

"Are they on a case?"

"Yep. They are hip deep in this one."

"Have JJ call me when she gets back to DC and gets settled?"

"Roger dodger, I will do that. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. We're stringing this together with case files. There's a commonality here, I just can't see it. I need another set of eyes."

"Okay, I will tell her to turn her baby blues your way when she gets back."

"Thank you."

"Anytime sweetie. Your goddess out."

"So we need to put this on pause?" Dr. Walker asked as Spencer hung up the phone.

"Unfortunately."

"That's all right. I wanted to pick up a tangent anyway. Girlfriends."

Ouch. "You mean Maeve." He'd already told her how she died.

"Any anyone else. I know this isn't Maeve." She held up a copy of a very familiar gossip magazine.

"Lila." Oh.

"Anyone else?"

"Um, Austin, a girl I met down in Atlanta on a case. And, um, JJ. We went out once."

"What happened?"

Spencer took a deep breath.

* * *

 

**Day 11**

"Are you seeing the pattern here?" Dr. Walker asked.

"Unfortunately." Spencer replied. "I push women away as soon as they express sexual interest." JJ, when she was more than a little tipsy after the game. Lila when she started groping him in the pool. Austin when she tried to get him to come back to her place when he'd flown down for their one and only date. Maeve when she said she would make blindfolds fun again, and he stopped truly pushing to meet her. Alex had to talk him into it the one time they tried. He looked up at the case board once again. "This is all about sex, isn't it?"

"Very likely."

"And there is this huge gap." He indicated the space between basically puberty and when he went out with JJ to the football game. "That easily twelve years during which time I should have been sexually active on some level, but there is nothing. That is statistically unlikely."

"Also true."

Just then his phone rang. "Hey JJ."

"Hey Spence. Garcia said you were having trouble stringing together some cases."

"Yeah. I'm kind of running victimology on myself here. But I can't find a common thread."

"Have you applied the Rule of Gideon yet? That's where we usually start when we're stuck."

Oh _duh_. "No, I haven't. Thank you for reminding me."

"Anytime. If you need more just call."

"I will, thanks."

"Well?" Dr. Walker asked.

"JJ reminded me to apply the Rule of Gideon. The first case tells you the most." He looked at the Gary Michaels case. "I'm going to have to do hypnosis again."

"All right. Let me talk to Dr. Carter at lunchtime. She's better at hypnosis than I am. Come back here right after lunch, I think we'll need the extra time today."

After lunch Spencer went back to Dr. Walker's office and got comfortable. Dr. Carter started the familiar litany to get him to drop under. For a moment Spencer wished he had Dave's hand to hold.

But then he wasn't here, he was there again.

_He was lying in bed. It was almost midnight. He couldn't sleep because his parent's were fighting._

_His Dad came in._

" _I know you're not asleep Spencer. Your Dad loves you."_

"What were your parents fighting about?" Dr. Carter asked.

_His parents were fighting. They woke him up._

_His parents were fighting._

" _What are you saying Diana?" William asked._

" _I'm saying it had to be done!" Diana replied._

" _What are you saying?"_

" _I won't have my son growing up..."_

" _What are you saying Diana?!"_

" _I won't have him turning in to a disgusting pervert like that! I won't have it!"_

" _You don't know what you're saying!"_

" _I know exactly what I'm saying! I won't have my son growing up to be like those strange men who chase other men around in the park! I won't have it!"_

Spencer snapped himself out of hypnosis.

"Spencer?" Dr. Walker asked.

Without a word Spencer got up and walked out the door.

He walked out quickly, away from everyone. Out to the pond that had become his solace.

It was there. It was right there.

But he couldn't. He just couldn't.

He would break her heart.

He couldn't.

Spencer walked along the trails for what felt like hours, fighting this knowledge with everything he had. But it refused to be buried one second longer. And yet he would give anything to make it not be.

But it was. It was.

And he couldn't hold it back anymore.

Finally he went back to Dr. Walker. "I can't say it." He said.

"Why not?" She asked. She was as calm as ever, completely unruffled.

"It'll break my mother's heart! She gave up everything over this! She lost her career because of this! Her marriage dissolved over this! She lost her sanity because of this! She gave up everything she had and if I say this, if I make this real, I will negate all of that!" He was crying. Why was he crying? "I cannot do this to her!"

"You can't do what to her?" Dr. Walker asked. She knew, Spencer realized. She'd likely known this whole time.

Spencer groaned and turned to look out the window at the lake once more. He couldn't, but he had to. He had to give voice to what was choking him, to what took away his memories and forced him on to drugs and destroyed every relationship. It would break his mother's heart but if he didn't it would destroy him.

"You have to say it, you know that."

He had to say it. He had to say it. Spencer took a deep, sobbing breath, turned to face Dr. Walker and let it out at last. "I can't tell my Mother I'm gay."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 9**

Spencer stood there for a few moments, letting those words hang in the air, and the tears seep down his cheeks.

The door to the balcony was open. He could hear the birds on the lake, the wind in the trees, faint, distant conversation.

After a moment Dr. Walker finally spoke. "The world hasn't ended."

Spencer managed a smile. "I noticed." He replied. "This doesn't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Maeve. I loved her. I really did." Of course the moment the words came out of his mouth he understood. "Because she was safe to love. Because she was an abstract, I could love her and never have to confront my sexuality at all."

"Which doesn't make those feelings any less real or valid."

"Of course not." He wiped at his cheeks with the heel of his hands.

"Here." There was a small sink over by the coffee pot. Dr. Walker got up and fetched him a damp tea towel. "Do you remember now?"

"I do." He said. "I remember all of it." He wiped off his face and looked up at the board again.

"Start with the first case." She sat to take notes.

"The Gary Michaels case. I blocked it out because on some level I knew...I knew I was gay even then and my Mother was disgusted by that and I couldn't live with the thought of her hating me."

"It's not unusual to know at that age, or even younger, on an abstract level. But hearing your parents condemn that intrinsic part of you, that's huge for a child."

"I know. Children will do anything to keep the love of their parents. We've seen that over and over in different cases. It was a completely normal reaction."

"And you stopped eating?"

"I didn't want to grow up and have her hate me. I didn't want to grow up. It seemed the most efficient way to make that happen, to take control over that process."

"Also a common reaction."

"Yeah." Spencer turned to the next case. "The Libson case. I didn't really have a thing for Alexa Libson. But she was the prettiest girl in school and I wanted to fit in so I said I did. After what happened, happened, Mark Carter came and rescued me."

"Who was Mark Carter?"

"He was the captain of the basketball team. Turns out he hated the football team, I never figured out why. He didn't find out what was going on until it was too late to stop it but he got me down and made sure I wasn't hurt and got me home. I was so relieved I, um, I think I started reacting. I mean, I was raised on the knight in shining armor myth and here he was, saving me. It was a...a first romantic fantasy come true. Thankfully I don't think he noticed."

"But you blanked it out because..."

"Because I was so embarrassed. Of all the times and places to become aroused. The next day he told everyone I was part of the basketball team, the mascot if nothing else. I ended up helping them with some of their plays. It was all statistics." Spencer smiled a little. "He was kind and treated me like a friend and he was amazingly good looking. I couldn't or didn't identify my feelings back then but looking back I had a huge crush on him. How could I have forgotten why he got me on the team?"

"Mom."

"Yeah."

"And you stopped eating because?"

"Because I was growing up. I started having these dreams about Mark, erotic dreams. And Mom would have been so upset if she knew. I had to hide the sheets a couple of times, I was afraid if she found them she'd have an attack. A low enough body fat percentage will shut down puberty. I guess it was a way of trying to take control of the process again."

"It usually is." Dr. Walker smiled. "The Jenkins case."

"I remember her now. She kept flirting with me. She was always around when I got out of the showers, She kept turning up around campus; she kept buying me small things like sodas and candy bars. Looking back now it was grooming behavior and my friends were right to be concerned, but at the time I was just heading in to puberty, out on my own, lonely and I really liked the attention. On the same day that Ethan and Charlie sent me to live with Charlie's parents Margie asked me if I wanted to go get dinner off campus that night."

"Would you have gone?"

"Yeah." Spencer admitted. "Sure she was twenty and I was thirteen but I thought it meant that I was accepted, that I was part of the community this time, not the little freak I was in high school. I wasn't even thinking about sex, I wasn't interested in her at all. But then Ethan said that I was just attracting perverts and I...I thought that somehow I was turning in to what Mom was so afraid of again, as soon as I left home. I needed to shut that down. Even after Margaret got me to start eating again I dissociated for the next decade. I couldn't stop growing so I ignored it."

"So there wasn't anyone?"

"Thinking back I crushed hard a few times. My roommate Ethan for one. I mean, he saved me from the perverts. We even ended up joining the FBI together. He dropped out on the first day. Remarkably painful. And Charlie's brother. He was an athlete, older, just a really nice guy. He ended up in the Bureau as well, that's when I started thinking about joining. Then he got engaged, and, well."

Dr. Walker chuckled. "All these straight boys keep breaking your heart."

"I know. Now." Spencer managed to laugh with her. "I never realized what I was feeling was attraction, I thought it was hero worship. But now, looking back, there wasn't anything abnormal about what I was thinking or feeling. I just buried it all and punished myself because I would disappoint my mother."

"It makes sense. You two were deeply enmeshed for years. Which falls on the adults in your family, not you."

"But..."

"We'll discuss that more later. Okay, we know why you were pushing the girls away. The Hankle case."

Spencer sat quietly on that one for a long moment. "Tobias didn't know that his father was dead, he didn't know that he had split his personality. He honestly believed his father was a separate entity who was punishing us both. And he tried to help me. And when we could talk he was so curious about the world..."

"You fell in love with him a little. I can hear it in your voice"

"Yeah, I did. But then I had to kill him before Charles killed me." Spencer felt the tears start again.

Dr. Walker made a note. "I think we need to talk about that one more in-depth."

"Yeah." Spencer wiped his face again. "Good plan."

"Okay, the Nichols case."

Spencer was deeply quiet as the memory came back. "That was horrible."

"Why."

"They have to scrub down every inch of your skin to remove any potential contamination. I'd never been with anyone. For a moment...being touched like that honestly felt amazing, and then it was horribly painful."

"I'm sorry that happened. It's not normally like that."

"I know that, intellectually. That's how I ended up on Baclofen."

"Intellectually?"

"I've never really...I've never really been in to physical contact. I'm not the hugging type."

"Out of fear or because it might have made you confront your sexuality?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are you willing to try?"

Was he? "Maybe."

"All right. What happened with this last case?"

"She wanted to watch me react, like I was back in puberty and dealing with wet dreams for the first time. She left a vibrator, she kept the remote, it must have been on the wi-fi network somehow. And I had to go along to keep her away from JJ. And she wouldn't _stop_ ; she kept it up for hours. At first it felt good but then it became overwhelming." It was so easy to talk about this now, now that he wasn't hiding the truth from himself anymore. Assuming this was the truth, and they weren't just grasping at straws. But then Spencer remembered one last thing. "JJ told me to go inward, to use fantasy to block out the presence of the Unsub. I tried Lila, Austin, even her but it didn't help. And then I pictured a male presence and it did. I was so ashamed of that I blocked it out again." Damn it all to hell. "What do I tell Mom?"

"Whatever you want to tell her." Dr. Walker put down her notes. "Spencer, you are a grown man, completely independent, who lives on the other side of the country from her. She doesn't need to be involved in your sex life at all."

"But I need to know if I'm breaking her heart." He just needed to know. He wouldn't have peace until he did.

"The only way to know is to ask."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 9**

The only way to know was to ask. And the best time was before he lost his nerve. Spencer went out on the balcony and dialed a very familiar number. "Bennington"

"May I speak to Diana Reid please?"

"And you are?"

"Her son, Spencer."

"One moment."

After a few moments the polite voice of the receptionist was replaced by a familiar one. "Spencer." Diana said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong Mom."

"Spencer, a mother knows things."

He let out a long breath. "I'm not in any physical danger. Really, I'm at this really nice hotel in Vermont, kind of on a vacation."

"Oh, that's good. You work too hard."

"So I've been told."

"But something _is_ wrong."

"Not physically."

"Spencer." How did mothers get that note in their voice? "You know how I hate talking on phones. Now tell me what's troubling you."

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Okay."

"When I was young I overheard you and Dad having a conversation."

"Please don't tell me you remember someone else dying."

"No. No. But, um, you said you didn't want me to grow up and become like one of those men who chased other men around in parks."

"You're right, I didn't. I still don't." Diana paused a moment. "Spencer, are you coming out to me?"

"Well..."

"Because if you are that would explain a lot."

"I..."

"Of course I love you, regardless."

"Wait, you..."

"But that would explain why you never brought a girl home."

"I..."

"I stand by what I said though. I don't want you looking for sex in park bathrooms. That was a thing back in the eighties; I have to say I always found it disgusting. It just seemed like such trashy behavior. And such an easy way to catch an STD. Really, those men should have had more self-respect."

"You mean..."

"I mean I expect _you_ to have more self-respect than that. I raised you to love and be loyal. Find someone who loves you in return and settle down. I don't care if they're male, female, black, white, whatever so long as they treat you like you deserve to be treated. I hear they have open homosexual groups at the universities now, you might try one of those."

"Yeah, I could see..."

"Although I do expect grandchildren. You have marvelous genetics, you need to start saving up to pay a surrogate."

"Well, I plan..."

"Good. Oh, now that I think about it there's a new doctor here who's questionable. I'll see what I can learn; if he's gay I'll introduce you the next time you come out. Someone like that would be ideal."

"True..."

"Just remember that I love you dear, no matter what. Now get off the phone before someone at work hears you. I've heard things about that Hoover person and I don't want him getting ideas."

"Yes, Mom. I love you too." Spencer hung up the phone.

Then he laughed until his sides hurt.

He sent off a quick email, and then made another phone call. "Hey JJ."

"Hey Spence."

"Am I catching you at a bad time?"

"No. Interrupt my paperwork, please."

"How's Michael?"

"Still in. He had the hiccups last night, it was annoying and adorable. So what's up? Need another case file?"

"No. I have this problem."

"Oh?"

"It's something we just worked out here."

"Okay."

Spencer took a deep breath. "I'm gay. I just...figured it out I guess."

"Okay." She sounded utterly neutral.

"I kind of need to know what the people who matter to me think, if this changes how they feel. And that includes the team. You guys are my...family."

"Well," Spencer heard keyboard keys in the background. "If it helps I can tell you that Hotch won the pool."

Wait, what? "Seriously?"

"Yeah, you're kind of the last one to figure this out Spence."

Damn it! "I hate profilers!"

"Don't we all. Hang on; I'm putting you on speaker." There was a click and Spencer heard the background sounds more clearly. Then JJ let off her sharp whistle. "Hey everyone, I have Spence on the phone. Hotch won the pool. He's out. His therapist got it out of him."

"Oh My God, finally!" Garcia called out.

"Took him long enough to figure it out." Morgan said.

"Tell him I want to introduce him to my nephew." Dave said.

"And I have a friend in theater group he has to meet!" Garcia replied.

"And we are heading to the gym when he gets back." Morgan said. "I know some guys down there who would..."

"Stop!" JJ cut Morgan off. Spencer heard a click as she went back to normal phone. "See. We still love you."

"You do? I mean you specifically, with the kids?"

"Of course. You know, one of Will's biggest regrets is that his partner Charlie never trusted him enough to come out to him. He is going to be so honored that you have."

Well, okay then. "Okay. Do you remember that time I took you to the football game?"

"Yeah, this explains it. That and the third beer I had."

They shared a chuckle. "I love you, you know." Spencer said.

"I love you too." JJ replied. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." Spencer hung up, spotted an incoming text, and gave up. He went back in the office and threw himself in the chair.

"Well?" Dr. Walker asked.

"My Mom still loves me and is setting me up with a doctor at her care home. My team still loves me and they are setting me up on I don't know how many blind dates. And Lila, who is still a friend, totally understands, is thrilled and is setting me up with someone named Zachary Quinto the next time I go out to LA. I don't know who that is."

"How do you feel?"

How did he feel? "I don't know. About thirty pounds lighter. Curious about what this means, but not in a bad way. I don't know."

"Do you still want to punish yourself?"

"Not at all." Spencer said. "I haven't done anything wrong. It's just been a misunderstanding all of these years. Although a useful one."

"Oh?"

"It saved Lila's and Austin's lives."

"Okay, we'll have to look at that."

"Are we still working together?"

Dr. Walker gestured to the boards. "Oh, we still have a lot to work on here. But now that we're over this hurdle we can move on to phase two."

"Meaning?"

"One step at a time." Dr Walker pulled out her own phone and sent a message. "Right now we need to talk about it and see what that means to you. But first I need to freshen up. Let's meet back here in fifteen."

Fifteen minutes was enough time to visit the bathroom, take a quick walk to stretch his legs, and to admire how much brighter the world felt now. He was still in shock, but it was amazing.

He was loved. Even now. Even knowing this.  He truly was loved.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3
> 
> The motto of chivalry is also the motto of wisdom; to serve all, but love only one.
> 
> -Honore de Balzac

 

**Chapter 23**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 9**

When Spencer came back to the office there was a big bowl of candy waiting. Specifically almonds covered in dark chocolate. It seemed like an excellent place to break his fast. "All right, phase two." He said.

Dr. Walker nodded. "Based on our assessment when you got here we felt that you were repressing something from your past, either sexual abuse or you needed to come out as either gay or trans or you had some paraphillia that needed to see the light of day."

Spencer nodded. "A combination of PTSD, sexual dysfunction and disordered eating would point to all three of those. So phase one was getting to that point."

"Yes. Getting that out where it could be dealt with removes a remarkable amount of stress. Phase two is getting you to a healthier place in your life, while dealing with all the rest of this," She gestured to the walls around her, "and helping you maintain better brain chemistry."

"Brain chemistry?" Not something he ever wanted to think about, in light of his mother.

"Don't worry, you're not showing any signs of schizophrenia. What do you know about dopamine?"

Dopamine. All of a sudden a number of points in his past settled into a pattern in Spencer's mind. "Maeve."

"Excuse me?"

"Maeve. At one point I was having some pretty serious headaches, and some other symptoms. I actually went in for testing in case I had a brain tumor. Thankfully I didn't but she did theorize that I might have fewer dopamine receptors in my hypothalamus than normal based on my symptoms, medical history and ability in my field. A low density of D2 receptors causes more information to come from thalamus which enables people to see connections that normal people cannot. Useful in a profiler."

"But not all that healthy." Dr. Walker replied. "So you might need more dopamine than average to make up for it." Spencer nodded. "And your levels were notably low when you got here. What symptoms did she notice?"

"Chronic boredom, lack of general satisfaction in life, not wanting to get out and exercise, insomnia, cravings for coffee and sugar, lack of a sex drive. Which might also be this, of course. She also tested me for certain vitamin and mineral deficiencies, which came back positive. She put me on supplements, specifically magnesium and B2."

"We usually go for B3 and B6, but we can go with an all around B-complex."

"She also told me to try to sleep more and reduce stress, although I wasn't very good at either. That said, I did start feeling remarkably better."

"What gives the brain the strongest hit of dopamine, other than drugs?" Dr. Walker asked.

"Pleasure." No, that wasn't specific enough. "No, the brain levels actually peak with the anticipation of pleasure." Still not right. "Actually it's more the anticipation of the possibility of pleasure. Studies on monkeys showed the highest peak when they performed an action that would bring a reward randomly. They would repeat the action over and over again to get that hopeful high."

"Like opening a mailbox?"

Spencer's brain stopped in its tracks. "To see if I had a letter from Maeve." He said. "I was growing healthier because she was in my life. From the anticipation of hearing from her." And then that stopped.

Dr. Walker nodded. "We need to find more ways to get more dopamine going in that brain of yours. Preferably without resorting to drugs. That means improving your diet, with supplements since I doubt it's all that healthy in the field. We need to find ways you can lower your stress level both at home and on the road. We need to work on sleep hygiene so you get a good night's rest and we need to get you up and moving. And we need to start working on the rest of this." She gestured to the board. "We also need to find you some hobbies so you have something reliable to look forward to. And that's at a minimum."

"At a minimum?"

"The surest way to raise dopamine levels is with sexual activity." Oh god. Spencer had to swallow a few times. He'd gone so long without actually dealing with this head on that now it was actually kind of scary. And Dr. Walker noticed. "Are you interested in starting a family at some point?"

Now there was a question. "Yes."

"It's not unusual for a man to stop producing semen if it's not released regularly. Also the numbers of genetic defects in sperm go up if they aren't released on a regular basis. This could be affecting your fertility and can lead to an increased risk of prostate cancer." She said. Spencer swallowed again. He'd never thought about that. Suddenly this was an issue that needed to be dealt with. "Thankfully regular ejaculation should solve the problem. You should start trying, as soon as you're comfortable. I'll have some notes left in your room for you."

Uhhh... "I, um, I always wanted to save that. For someone special." At least that's what he'd always believed. Right?

"Spencer, you can't give someone a gift you haven't already claimed for yourself. Right now that first time would be much more awkward and difficult than it needs to be. You need to learn how you function before you can share that knowledge with another. Trusting them with that knowledge is a big part of that gift."

That actually made more sense. But. "I've heard it can be addicting?"

"It can be, if done too often. But too often is usually multiple times a day. Right now up to every night would be ideal, until we're certain you're healthy. After that once a week should keep you that way until you find a partner. The neurochemicals released in pair bonding are what we're really after here. We should try to get you to the point where you feel confident enough to at least go looking for a boyfriend before you head back to DC. If need be we do have surrogates we work with."

"Sexual surrogates?"

"Mmm-hmmm." Spencer just blinked at her for a few moments, suddenly terrified. "Just something to consider for the future, you're not ready for that yet." Dr. Walker said. "We have to work up to that. Expect to start spending morning sessions in the Wellness Center."

"Do we have to?"

"We don't _have_ to do any of it. But I'm strongly recommending it. Are you familiar with graduated exposure therapy?"

"The process of gradually exposing someone on the...autistic spectrum to new sensations so they don't become overwhelming and trigger...hypersensitvity." Okay...

"You've already had hypersensitivity episodes triggered by sexual arousal twice. Do you think you would be more comfortable with a partner if you knew there was a better chance that it wouldn't happen a third time?"

"Yes." Gradual usually meant very gradual in this type of therapy. He could do very gradual. "So what do I do now?"

"Now? Take the rest of the day off. Go for a walk, take some time to think. I'll have the staff catch up to you with something to eat. Think about all those boys you were attracted to over the years, what made them appealing, what they had in common. And think about what stories held your interest the most. We can add all of that to the list of things to talk about."

"All right." Spencer thought he could do that. He hoped he could do that.

"Oh, and take that with you." Dr Walker gestured to the bag on the counter that was still 2/3 full of chocolate covered almonds. "Both dark chocolate and almonds help raise dopamine levels. Your brains and hips need them a lot more than mine do."

Have to start keeping some in my bag, Spencer thought. He said his thanks yous, took the bag, and headed out.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 9**

Spencer decided he didn't want to wait. He headed back to the Lodge where they were serving tea on the porch overlooking the lake. He had to admit it now, with this weight off of his heart he was more than a little hungry. And tired. And restless. And something else, something unfamiliar. It was teasing at the edges of everything he was feeling right now.

But he wasn't going to think about it at the moment because they had a tray full of pastry on the porch.

He stepped up to the server when he got there. "You're not going to give me a banana, are you?" He asked.

The server smiled. "Not unless you ask for one. Help yourself, Dr. Reid."

Okay, this place was kind of magical.

While he was picking out a few things he had to try Spencer noticed Eric standing over by the railing on the other side of the seating area. Standing next to him, at an uncomfortably close distance, was an older man. If someone had asked Spencer at that moment he could have pulled what they called a "Hotchalanch" around the office, breaking down the details of his profile point by point, usually to put someone squarely in their place. It was most commonly used on obnoxious Senators and squirrely defense lawyers. But no one asked in the moment and so Spencer didn't need to explain where his profile was coming from. All he knew was that the man in question was wealthy, privileged, widowed, liked to drink a little too much, believed himself entitled, and was trying to come on to Eric.

And Eric, for all that it was well controlled, was terrified.

Spencer left the buffet to head in that direction just as Eric turned to walk away. They met in the middle, out of earshot but in view of everyone. "Are you all right?" Spencer asked quietly.

"Yeah." Eric replied. He clearly wasn't on an emotional level, at least to a profiler, but there wasn't any physical damage. "That was deeply creepy."

"How so?"

"That guy came up to me and said that this is an eighteen and over resort, so I'm eighteen and would I like a drink sometime."

Uh oh. Spencer looked past him toward the man who was watching them both. "Well, you do have the kind of appearance that attracts ephebophiles."

"Yeah, I know. It's an asset at work. I just wasn't expecting it here."

"Want to call Dr. Carter? Or Mrs. Landcaster?"

"No, he's leaving us alone."

Spencer looked over again. Nope, they were still being watched. But he wasn't going to mention that to Eric right now. "Let's get out of here." He said. "I'll bring the food, you bring the tea."

* * *

 

They ended up back at Spencer's table by the lake, and ended up bringing a tea tray with them. Along the way Eric had received an e-mail. "They say that there is nothing faster in the universe than the speed of light." Spencer said as Eric put the tray down on the table and sat in the chair opposite. "Someday I want to find a way to measure the speed of gossip in FBI headquarters; I think it will come up faster. Let me guess, Dave told Ashley who told you?"

Eric nodded as he poured the tea. "Yep. Welcome to the rainbow side. This is the point where I'm supposed to tell you that everything is awesome." He said. "I'm still working on that."

"I noticed." Spencer would have said more but he sensed that Eric wanted to talk. Maybe he finally needed to or something.

"Ever hear of a man named Warren Jeffs?"

"Warren Jeffs. Leader of the Fundamentalist Church of Latter-Day Saints, currently serving life plus twenty for two felony counts of child abuse." Spencer was mentally reading the file. "That particular denomination was notorious for evicting young men from the community so older men wouldn't have competition for younger women. You were one of the lost boys?"

Eric nodded. "Yeah. My dad left me on the side of the road when I was fourteen. At least I think he was my dad, hard to tell in that community." Eric was calm but the bitterness was obvious in his voice. "Anyway, he was the least abusive man around my mother. He left me a few miles from a truck stop. I remembered them ranting about gay men selling themselves in truck stops. I was curious, hungry and broke so I figured what the hell."

Ouch. Spencer winced in sympathy. "That must have been..."

"Not as bad as it could have been. The guy I met last night was familiar with the lost boys. He let me stay with him until I graduated high school, even helped tutor me through it, in exchange for, well."

Well. Sex. "That's a hard way to grow up."

"It was. Before you ask he died of cancer four years ago. Around about when I went off to college I aged out of his preferred range, so there was that. For my first few years in college it was one bad relationship after another. A friend finally convinced me to get some counseling instead of another boyfriend. A couple of years later I joined up."

"I would think the Bureau is a very different environment."

"I thought it was."

And that was the problem that brought Eric here, Spencer realized. His whole life men couldn't be trusted with their own sexuality. Then he joined the FBI and met a group of people for whom integrity meant something and likely started to heal. Until he ran into a Unit Chief on a case. "Um, I talked to Ashley."

"She's turning out to be the queen of gossip, swear."

"It's understandable." That he would have trouble trusting men now. All men. He had likely just begun trusting fellow agents when this happened.

"So they tell me. So what happened to you?"

"I spent twenty-six years repressing my sexuality because I thought my mother was homophobic."

"Is she?"

"As it turns out no. She's anti-male prostitution. Based on my reading she would also likely be anti-orgies, bath houses, overly popular public rest rooms, steam rooms, tea rooms, sex toy shops with movie booths, parks, and glory holes." Eric started laughing. Spencer grinned in reply. "I know she's specifically against picking up men in parks, she said that outright. No, she wants me to find one person, preferably a fellow academic, get married, and settle down behind a white picket fence in the suburbs with two kids and a dog. She doesn't care if the person is male or female so long as they embrace monogamy, middle-class values, parenthood and boredom."

"We need to teach you about the culture. It's not two kids, a dog and a white picket fence in the suburbs. It's one kid, two cats and a condo in an urban neighborhood that's gentrified but not too hipster."

Spencer blinked a few times. That...didn't sound all that bad, actually. "I think she would be okay with that. What neighborhoods are like that in DC?"

"Dupont and Logan Circles are popular if you're single. Capitol Hill is great for families. Or so I've been told." Eric replied. "I don't know. I picked up a studio closest to Union Station to crash in when I got out of the Academy. I don't even have a kitchen."

No. "Capitol Plaza?" It came recommended from HR.

"Um, yeah."

"Which number?"

"Forty-five." Eric blinked at it kicked in. "You?"

"Twenty-three."

"They must be paying off HR for referrals."

"No kidding." Spencer looked up to catch Eric looking at him, and he felt this very odd tingle.

"So you ended up in here just because you were repressing everything?"

"Until I had to perform for an Unsub to protect JJ and Michael which meant facing the problem head on. I wasn't doing well after that."

"I can see it." Eric settled back again. "Any chance we can just eat dinner out here?"

"Likely not. It's still warm enough for mosquitoes to be a problem."

"Damn."

Spencer knew what Eric was thinking, even though he was trying to project an air of calm. "You don't have to be afraid of that guy, you know. You're a Federal Agent now."

"If this was rational we wouldn't be up here."

"True. I don't know if it will help or not but you're not afraid of me."

"Yeah, but you're different somehow." Eric looked over, and once more Spencer felt that tingle. "Maybe it's the whole never been kissed thing."

"I've been kissed." Twice, actually.

"By who?"

"Lila Archer." Spencer didn't want to think about the second time.

"The actress?"

"Yes. She's a friend. We met on a case and kept in touch."

"And she kissed you?"

"Yes. In her pool. She was wearing a bikini."

"And..."

"And I, um, shut it down at that point.  I didn't want to go any further."

Eric started at him for a long moment. "And you didn't realize you were gay until today."

Well, a good way to stop being afraid was to start laughing.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 10**

Spencer and Eric enjoyed a very pleasant dinner that night. Spencer actually got a full meal this time, including the mac and cheese he hadn't been able to choke down on his first night. Now he savored every bite of it. And of the salad that went with it. And of the pie that came after.

They went back to the cottage but they didn't want to stop talking somehow. They ended up having hot cocoa and talking later, until they really had to go to bed.

The next morning Spencer was surprised by his schedule folder. "What is it?" Eric asked.

"I guess I graduated to the next level." Spencer replied. Phase two, Dr. Walker had called it. "I only get four hours of therapy today instead of eight."

"Four hours. Total luxury." Eric teased. "What are you going to do with all of that free time?"

"Well, between tea and dinner I'm supposed to meet with the activities director. Likely to figure that out. I have therapy from lunch to tea."

"And what are you doing this morning?"

"Heading to the Wellness Center for physical and, um, exposure therapy."

"Exposure therapy?" Eric asked. Spencer nodded. "Yeah, let me know about that one. Did they, um, already mention the surrogates to you?"

"They did." Now why the sudden surge of irrational anger or something? "I am not even considering that at this point."

"Same here."

Spencer considered the sheet of paper like it might be toxic. "I'm actually kind of nervous about this." He said. "They want me to bring multiple changes of clothing."

"If anything goes wrong shoot twice and I'll come help."

"Thanks."

* * *

 

The Wellness Center was where he and Eric had gone for physicals on their first full day. As he had remembered the staff was polite and soothing. "You're assigned to Pod 2 for the morning." The woman who met him said. "Please start with athletic wear. When you're ready come over to the gym."

"Thank you." Part of the center was set up in what they called pods, which were assigned for the use of a guest if they were going to be there for a length of time. Each one seemed to come with four rooms, although on his last trip here Spencer had only seen two of them. Room one was a small, comfortable changing area with a locker to store his clothing. Room two was a small, functional bathroom with a walk in shower. Spencer changed into shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes, stashed his gear, and went to the gym.

The physical therapist there said that they were going to start with a brief warm up, then she was going to work on the trigger points in his knee before they started coming up with a workout for him. They were going to try to build a land-based workout, but if that didn't look like it would work for him they would head for the pool. "I really should have spent more time working on this after my injury." Spencer said.

"It's never too late." The physical therapist replied. "I am supposed to point out that you're going to be under observation for the first part." She nodded to a woman with a clipboard standing discreetly off to one side. "Not sure why, I'm not a part of that program."

"That's all right." Spencer had no clue why Dr. Walker would send someone to watch him, but he trusted her enough not to complain.

So it was walking on a treadmill for five minutes, and then lying back on a therapy table while the physical therapist massaged his knee. He didn't mind, she was doing her job and while it was painful at times it felt better when it was over. When it was he sat up and looked around, only to notice that his observer was gone. Okay then.

Over the next hour or so they tried a land-based workout, but they couldn't get to what they were looking for because of the instability in his knee. So he went back to the pod, changed into swim gear, and headed to the pool. Forty-five minutes later he emerged with just the right combination of tired and refreshed. His physical therapist looked over his knee again, pronounced herself happy with the results, and said that tomorrow they would start making it a regular workout for him. "Okay." She said. "Head back to the pod; they should have instructions waiting for you. See you tomorrow."

"Great. Thanks." By now Spencer felt so good he wasn't even thinking about the rest of the morning. Endorphins, he realized, serotonin and brain-derived neurotrophic factor. They collectively worked together to lower the stress response, ease depression, improve mood and give a bit of a euphoric feeling. This might be worth the trouble of finding a pool somewhere.

Back at the pod he found a small pile of cloth and a note waiting. Take a brief shower, it said, use the soap they provide, get dressed in the provided clothing and meet your next therapist in room three.

Riiight.

It turned out to be unscented soap, thankfully. The clothing provided turned out to be soft pants, much like pajama pants, loose and incredibly soft. Only he wanted underwear. He had clean with him so he added underwear. Also a robe of the same soft material. Okay.

Room two had a serene, zen feeling to it, with dark sage walls, low lighting and candles flickering here and there. There was some soft music playing, very low in the background. It smelled kind of herby, likely from the candles. In the center there was a curious table, with an extension shaped like a doughnut. Over on one wall was a counter with a sink, where a woman in the spa uniform was busying herself with something. "Good morning." She said when she heard him close the door.

"Good morning." He replied. Okay, he had never been this nervous. "Um, I've never done this before."

"I know." Her manner was quiet but professional. It helped. "We're doing a standard Swedish massage today, nothing exotic. Is the music all right? The room temperature?"

"I guess so." It was comfortable enough.

"Okay, if that changes let me know. According to the plan we're just working on your back, so lie on the table, face in the hole, and put your waistband as low as you want me to go. We don't usually talk during a massage but if you feel at all uncomfortable speak up, all right?" She stepped over to the sink and started washing her hands.

"Um, sure." Spencer took a deep breath, left his robe over a chair, his glasses on a small shelf beside it, and lay down on the table with his face in the doughnut. Nice design, it let him remain flat but still breathe. Now, how far down did he want her to go? What felt comfortable? Any of it? In the end he pushed his waistband down a couple of inches to his hips, covering anything that could be perceived as intimate. He closed his eyes, since he couldn't see anything anyway, and waited.

After a minute or so she came over. He felt her drape a sheet over his lower body and quickly tuck it into his waistband, so it would all be out of the way. Then he felt her hand in the center of his back. "Try to slow your breathing." She said. "Take a deep breath in...and out." He tried to breathe along with her, deep, slow, calming breaths. When he was no longer racing she murmured again. "Good. Now you're going to feel a little oil." Some warm liquid dribbled on to his back. "Just relax." With that she started sweeping the oil over his skin.

Within five minutes he began to remember what heaven had felt like. Why had he never done this before? "How long is this supposed to last?" He managed to get out.

"About forty-five minutes."

"I'll be asleep in forty-five minutes." Seriously. His muscles were starting to feel like butter. Melting butter.

"That's fine."

Sometime later, Spencer had utterly lost track, she finally, gently stopped. "When you're ready there's a warm bath waiting in room four." The therapist said. "You'll have about twenty minutes to soak. There's some ice water in there as well, drink it all. There are instructions for after."

He had to get up. He wasn't certain he could get up, but he had to get up. "I might need help getting up." He admitted.

"All right." She helped him up to a sitting position. His head was spinning, likely because his blood supply was all over the place. She kept a hand on his shoulder until he was stable. "If you need anything just call out."

"Okay." After she left he managed to get to his feet, find his glasses and head into room four. It was just as serene as room three, but with a big, deep, steaming hot pool of water in the center. Without a thought he shed the rest of his clothes and got into the water.

He didn't think it was possible to get any more relaxed but apparently it was.

Ice water was a thing, a very welcome thing. He sipped ice water and soaked in hot water and thought about nothing for a while. This gave good brain chemicals new meaning. He was going to find a way to make this happen in DC, and to hell with anyone who thought it was weird. Who knew that human touch could feel so very, very good?

At just the right time there was a gentle knock at the door, then a voice said that it was time to move on. Spencer hauled himself out of the tub and looked at the paper waiting. A brief, cool shower, it said. Then get dressed and head to lunch the long way, to ease back into the world.

The cool shower revived him, at least enough to get back into his clothing and head out. Everything seemed brighter now, the world more colorful, more sparkling. Spencer admired it all on the long, slow walk back to the main house.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked when he caught up with him.

"I haven't felt this buzzed since the last time I got high." Spencer admitted. "You have got to try that."

"High?  You know you're going to have to tell me that story now." 

Somehow that was okay too.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 10**

"So you want to be rescued by a knight?" Dr. Walker asked.

After lunch Spencer had gone back to her temporary office for another round of therapy. They had discussed what had happened that morning (all positive) and what had happened the night before (nothing). Now they were trying to sort out his fantasy life, to see if that might prime the proverbial pump. But right now all the hard work of the morning was being undone by frustration. "No." Spencer replied. "God no. I am sick of being rescued."

"Do you get rescued often? At work, I suppose?"

"Yes, usually by Morgan. It's embarrassing, humiliating. It's the most annoying thing ever and it never ends."

"And you never rescued someone?"

"Ahhh, some."

"Let me guess, Lila, Austen and JJ are on that list. And you tried to save Maeve and Tobias."

"I would have, if I could have, yes. So you think I need to save someone to fall in love with them?"

"Not necessarily. But I'd bet becomes a strong component of any fantasies you end up having."

"But I'm having trouble having any fantasies."

"Have you ever heard of the term demisexual?"

Spencer had. "Demisexuals are characterized by a lack of sexual attraction toward any person unless they become deeply emotionally or romantically connected with a specific person or persons. The level of connection it takes for sexual desire to form is dependent on how close the relationship is rather than initial attraction. So I might need to get to know someone before I can fantasize about saving them. That...actually makes a lot of sense."

"Know anyone who could fit the bill here?"

"One. But he would be very upset if he knew. I couldn't upset him that much." Upset would not begin to describe how Morgan would take that. But there was something else.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Walker asked.

"Riley. I used to daydream about us being brothers, sharing a castle somewhere. When he went missing I dreamed about finding him, saving him." He was quiet a long moment. "That wasn't really about being brothers, was it?"

"No. But it was a child's level of understanding."

"I wasn't a normal child. I read too much. After they found him I knew what happened." Now why was he crying again? "And Mom was afraid I was turning into that and..."

"Here." Dr. Walker passed the tissues. "Let's talk about this. We have time."

* * *

 

They had time to talk through that a little, and for Spencer to get a bead on some other homework. He left her office with a shiny new journal and a little more hope.

It wasn't until he neared the lodge porch that he snapped back into reality. "Not interested." Eric said, sharply and clearly."

"Come on." Oh great, it was creepy old guy. "One drink. I won't tell your parents."

"You know, if I was eighteen what you are proposing is illegal."

"So you're what, nineteen?"

"I'm twenty-five and I'm an FBI agent!"

Creeper guy scoffed. "Yeah, right. Let's see your badge, G-man."

Eric was quiet a moment. "Leave me alone." A moment later he came around the corner of the building and nearly blundered into Spencer.

"You okay?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah." No, he wasn't. Eric was clearly rattled. "I left my ID back in the cottage."

"It's okay."

"I just can't seem to get rid of the guy. This is the only time we're around the other guests, and he's always here."

"So, we'll tell Mrs. Lancaster, she'll get him to back off."

"No, I don't want to do that. I know they're losing money on us, I don't want them to have to offend someone paying full price."

"Okay. Let's go eat somewhere else then."

* * *

 

A few minutes later they were back at the cottage, having collected a basket of goodies. Spencer put the kettle on while Eric checked out a box left on the coffee table. "It's for you." He said.

Spencer came over, read the note, and immediately felt himself turning bright red. "Ah. Right."

"What is it?" Eric asked.

"It's um...items to help with...visualization. Adult sort of...items."

He hadn't planned on going there, but Eric nearly immediately realized what he meant. "Okay, I have got to know." He set about cutting the tape on the shipping box. "You know this is a unit thing."

"A unit thing?"

"Yeah. I mean you guys came up with the theory, right? Every subject has his signature, some combination of items and practices and rituals that make what he's doing satisfying. Every signature is unique, and being able to identify it will help you identify who you're dealing with. We need it so we can identify who created a crime scene. Our guys travel a lot and we usually get there after the fact."

"But like all Unsubs they have a comfort zone, in this case a circuit they like to travel." Spencer nodded. "If you can define that circuit at some point you'll have an idea of where they're going next and you can get ahead of them."

"Yeah, exactly. The problem is that not ever brand of condom or lube or sex toy is available in every location, so it helps to be able to identify likely replacements. Which means knowing pretty much every variation out there. We try to keep one of everything on hand."

"You mean you have a closet of sex toys in your office?" Three floors down from the BAU.

"Not a closet. Dude, we have a storeroom." By now Eric had the box open and was rummaging through it. "It's kind of the unit initiation, taking a newbie through for the first time. By the time we're done we likely know more about their sex lives than they do. We call it..." Eric pulled out something flesh colored and long. "...Dick Day!"

Spencer couldn't help it. He cracked up laughing. Either at the story or at the sight of Eric standing there, grinning madly, with a large, anatomically correct object in his hand. For a brief moment he had the slightest hesitation, but then he threw it into the wind. "I am supposed to meet with the activities director this afternoon." He said. "But I would appreciate some expert advice on what's in there."

"And I am supposed to contemplate my naval or something." Eric replied. "I vote we go through this box instead."

Spencer picked up the phone to call the office and move his appointment. "Excellent idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry publishing is so slow. I have a chronic illness which has decided to flare up just in time for my In-laws to visit. Hopefully I'll be back to normal by the middle of next week.


	27. Chapter 26.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So all of the XX.5 chapters are rated Explicit and exclusive to AO3. You should be able to skip them and still follow the story. Consider this your warning.

**Chapter 26.5**

**Twin Farms**  
**Outside Woodstock, VT**  
**Day 10**

By the time Spencer finished agreeing to look over a list before dinner and moving his appointment to tomorrow Eric had most of the box unpacked and spread all over the living room.  Apparently he was spending the afternoon having hands-on lessons about sex toys over tea and pastries. 

Could be worse.

“So where do we start?”  Spencer asked as he came over to drop on the couch.

“With condoms.”  Eric replied.  “Safety first and always.  It looks like they sent you a selection.”  He had a small box open, one filled with foil packets in different colors.  “They sent a long a measuring tape as well.  Handy that.”

“Measuring tape?”

“Yeah.  Condoms come in different sizes.  Too loose and it could slip off, too tight and it could break.  They have instructions.  It’s not that hard.”  For a moment he looked away and turned bright red.  “For the record I wear an extra small.”

Huh.  “Interesting.  I never understood the fascination with size.  I always thought knowledge and ease with your partner would matter more.”

Eric looked up and seemed to be relaxing.  “I agree, but it’s a thing for some guys.”

“Not for me.”

“Good to know.”   Eric set that box aside and opened another one.  “Lube.  Lots of lube.  Awesome, there is no such thing as too much lube.”

There were four different bottles in there.  No, five.  “There are different kinds?”

“Yeah, for different applications.  Okay, you have got sweet almond oil.  Great for skin on skin contact but not for use on genitals because it can trap fungus on the mucus membranes and cause problems.  Never with condoms.  You also have scented almond oil, for the same purpose, but supposedly more relaxing.  I don’t know, it smells nice.  Coconut oil, eatable and mildly anti-fungal, so great for genitals but never for condoms.  Silicone, extra slippery, water soluble, great for any non-plastic toys.  Condom safe.  Do not use on silicone toys, it turns the surface the consistency of melted cheese.  Water-based lube.  Gets a little sticky with friction but the only thing safe with silicone or plastic toys.  Condom safe.”  Eric looked at the selection.  “If it were me I would use the almond oil for back massages, the coconut oil for mutual masturbation, the water-based for prostate massagers and silicone for penetrative toys, which I prefer in stainless steel or glass because you can sterilize them.  But that’s me.”

“I bow to your knowledge base.  May I?”  He picked up the small bottle of water based and sniffed it.  It had a very faint odor, like something that is supposed to be unscented but they really put a tiny amount in to cover the scent of chemicals.  “The last Unsub I dealt with had some of this, but it smelled...I want to say like someone who hadn’t taken a shower in weeks.”

Eric nodded.  “There are a few different kinds out there that are supposed to replicate the look and smell of semen.  To me they always smell like a guy hasn’t washed himself in days on end.  It’s more than a little gross.”  He sat back on his heels for a moment.  “In my experience there are two kinds of guys out there.  They are either really in to funk, they like you fresh out of the gym or unwashed and they want you to be into them all funky and unwashed, or they’re into the fresh out of the shower clean thing and want you to get a shower before they do anything.  I’ve never been with the fresh out of the shower kind but I know they exist and I’m pretty sure they’re more my type.”

From that answer Eric was more than pretty sure about that.  Spencer hadn’t been with either type, of course, but he had shared an elevator with one Derek Morgan after the gym but before the locker room.  He didn’t even want to imagine.  “I think I’m more the shower type myself.”  He looked at another box full of small bottles.  “What’s in there?”

“Speaking of showers, cleaners.  This one is for silicone toys, this one disinfects Fleshjacks, and of course good old hippy soap.”  He pulled out a larger bottle.  “Cleans steel, glass and you.”

Spencer took the bottle and had a look.  Unscented Castile liquid soap.  He could totally embracethis one thing the box so far, without any reservation.  “Silicone seems tricky to use.”

“But it has that skin like texture.”

There was that.  “What’s a Fleshjack?”  Spencer asked.

“This thing.”  Eric pulled what looked like a large flashlight from the box and passed it over.  Spencer noted caps on both ends.  “The larger cap protects whatever sleeve you have in there, the smaller one regulates suction.”

“Sleeve?”  Spencer opened the larger one and found an empty case.

“These things.”  Eric pulled three large, pink objects from the box, each about the size and shape of the case.  “They’re supposed to feel very realistic, designed for penetration.  I’ve tried them, kind of, but I can’t tell you how realistic they feel.  Here.”  He took the case back and threaded one of the pink things into the case.  “That’s the basic model, smooth on the inside.”

When he handed it back Spencer had a look.  It was round with a round hole, kind of like a doughnut, only the hole likely went the length of the case.  How to use it was suddenly quite obvious.  Now it was his turn to blush.  “And you just...”

“Yeah.”  Eric took it back and changed out the sleeve.  “You have an oral one here as well as an anal one.  The oral ones are all supposed to replicate a human throat on the inside, with the texture and all.  The anal ones are all different.”

“Replicate a....” 

“Yeah, see?”  Eric held the thing next to his face.  Sure enough, instead of a plain pink doughnut there was a very realistic mouth on the front.  It was obvious.  And all of a sudden Spencer felt this unusual hot, melting sensation flow through him.  Kind of like what he felt with Lila in the pool, only about ten times stronger.  “Add some of the water-base lube and go to town.  But keep it around, or like a spray bottle of water, in case it gets sticky.”

“Good to know.”  There were images tickling at the edges of Spencer’s mind, but he didn’t want to explore those yet.  And his pants were starting to feel like they didn’t fit quite right.

“Yeah.  Sticky is really uncomfortable.”  Eric indicated about a half dozen phallic shaped objects of various sizes and configurations.  “Do I need to get into what these are for?”

“Ah, no.”  Spencer thought he could figure that one out on his own.  But something else was bothering him.  “You can’t tell me how realistic these things are?”  He indicated the plastic case he was holding.

Eric was quiet a long moment.  “Are you at all familiar with the concept of power exchange?”

“Yes.  I did a paper on paraphillias and their relation to major crimes a few years back.”  He thought a moment.  “Let me guess, always the bottom, never the top?”

“Yeah.  Not that it’s really my thing.  Well, not _really_ , really my thing.”

“Yeah, none of them did it for me.”  Well, not _really_ did it for him.  Not really.

“So it looks like that’s it.”  Eric looked at the pile.  “No vibrators.”

“No, that, um, last Unsub used one.  It was black, shaped like...”  Spencer drew a curly shape in the air.

“That would be a prostate massager.  Those can be amazing.  Or horrible.”

“She kept turning it on and off.”

“That would be the horrible way. Edging is a bitch and a half unless you’re really into it.  My guy did something similar.   How did yours keep you from helping out?”

“Helping out?”

“Getting yourself off?  Masturbating to orgasm?”

Ah.  “She threatened JJ and Michael.  You?”

“Handcuffs.”

Just then there was a knock on the door.  “That would be the list from the activities director.”  Spencer said.  “Um, want to go over it with me?”  And discuss anything but this.

“Yes, dear god, please.”  Eric replied.  He started tucking things back in the box.

“Amen.”  Spencer went to get the door.

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 27**

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 10**

After going over the list from the activities director and choosing some that seemed likely (Cycling and touring a cooking show set, yes. Canoeing and falconry, maybe not so much) there was dinner, and then talking about anything but, and so on and eventually Spencer made his way upstairs with The Box.

That's how he was thinking of it now. The Box.

He started with a shower, because it seemed like a good habit to get in to. He used the soap they suggested, which left him smelling and feeling simply clean, which was nice. He decided that no matter what else he decided to do when it came to sex and his body he was going to stick with that brand of soap and use some before all experiences. He could firmly say that he enjoyed that.

Hopefully that was a good start.

Afterward he contemplated The Box. It almost seemed like an endless supply of possibilities. But his eyes kept going back to that plastic mouth.

Ridiculous, he thought. Silliness. I'm not a teenager.

But he was going remarkably hard from even the thought of trying.

There was a stool in the bathroom. Warm the thing under running water. Add a little of the lube. Lower your pants and try, just once. Once. What harm could it do?

Warmth and wet and texture. And amazing sensations. His eyes drifted closed. It really did feel good. So very good.

It felt even better when he tried to pull it off and the suction kicked in. His hips lifted on their own. Oh, this was wonderful.

He tried it for a few moments, waking an aching need that he didn't know he could feel.

And an ache in his heart he knew he could.

Nope.

He stopped. Washed it out. Set it aside to put away in the morning. Ignored his body and went to bed.

He refused to admit defeat.

* * *

 

" _You don't need to do this." Spencer said._

_Eric looked up at him with laughing blue eyes. "I know. I want to."_

_And it was okay somehow. He was the Knight and he had saved the Prince from something dreadful and now the Prince wanted to...wanted to...this was pure play for him. All he had to do was allow it._

_He felt himself slouching in his chair as the Prince crawled between his legs. And it was all warmth and wet and texture and those beautiful, laughing eyes and that gorgeous body. He was going to be all over that body very soon. Very soon that body would be in his arms and he would take that mouth with his and he would feel him shivering with what he was going to do. But right now there were happy, laughing eyes and there was this suction that was taking his breath away._

_Please don't stop. Please don't stop. Please please please please_

_He groaned as this wave picked him up and took him._

* * *

 

"Hey. Spencer. Wake up."

It was Eric's voice. Spencer opened his eyes and fumbled for his glasses. "Yeah."

"You were having a nightmare."

Spencer got his glasses on. Those eyes should be laughing, he thought, as all of the muscles in his stomach and groin fluttered. It was all he could do not to groan at the sensation. "I'm okay, I'm good."

"You sure?"

Eric's robe was hanging open. Apparently he only wore pants to bed. All over that...his body fluttered again. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks."

"Okay. 'Night."

As soon as the door closed Spencer lifted the covers. His pajama pants were wet and the sheets were damp.

That was no nightmare. He hadn't had a...a wet dream like that since CalTech. And just having Eric in the room had triggered aftershocks.

Spencer let out a sigh.  Now what was he going to do?

* * *

 

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 11**

"There's really nothing wrong with it." Dr. Walker said.

"Yes there is." Spencer replied. "He's got his own issues to deal with. He does not need mine on top of them."

"Are you planning on telling him you're attracted to him?"

"Is that what this is?" He liked Eric, sure, but did he like him like that?

"In my professional opinion?" She smiled. "Are you going to tell him you've been fantasizing about him?"

"God no."

"That's perfectly fine. But as a thought exercise what do you think would happen if he found out and was upset by that? What would you do?"

"Get a different room, arrange our schedules so he didn't have to look at me the rest of our time here, and make certain we never worked together." He answered quickly.

"And what if you told him and he wasn't upset? What if he was also interested?"

Spencer just gaped at her for a moment. He had no idea. He could easily conceive of and plan for rejection. He did not have words for acceptance.

Dr. Walker smiled. "Let's explore that some more."

* * *

 

Dinner came eventually. "I'm debating learning how to cook." Spencer admitted. "Baking, specifically."

"If your apartment is anything like mine we don't have kitchens." Eric replied.

"This is a drawback. But it does sound like fun."

"Baking?"

"I got a PhD in Chemistry when I was 16. This is the eatable version."

"Okay, maybe I can see it." He smiled, his eyes laughing. "I'll be your tester if you want."

Spencer felt his insides flop and his body start to react. "Sure, if you want." He bent his head and pushed his food around on his plate.

Looked like Eric was too.

* * *

 

They got back to the cottage and found a porter waiting. "Can I help you?" Spencer asked.

"Delivery for Mr. Hoverland." The porter handed the bottle of wine he was carrying to Eric.

"Huh." Eric looked at the label. "Who is this from?"

"Mr. Brooks, sir."

"Brooks?" Spencer tugged the bottle around so he could snap a picture of the label. "About this tall, kind of portly, balding, moustache..." He went on to describe the man who had been harassing Eric.

"Yes, sir." The porter replied.

"Did he give any special directions?"

"He said to deliver it personally and away from Mr. Hoverland's parents, if they were in attendance. As I understand they aren't, so..."

"Right. Thank you. Oh, and don't tell Mr. Brooks I was here, please." Spencer tipped the porter before he left.

"Dude, did this guy actually just send a bottle of wine to a minor?" Eric asked when the porter was gone.

"This guy actually just sent..." Spencer's phone pinged an incoming text. "...a 2,500 dollar bottle of wine to a minor."

Eric put the bottle on the counter very gently.

That was when Spencer noticed something. "Hang on." He snapped another picture of the bottle, gloved up, fetched a paring knife and paper bag, carefully peeled the foil from the top of the bottle and bagged it. "See that?"

"You really keep evidence gloves in your pocket? What?"

Spencer used the light from his phone to shine through the bottle. The light came up through a small hole in the cork. "Unsubs tend to follow my team around. You never know. I'm thinking hypodermic." He said as he showed the hole in the foil as well.

"Are you telling me that fucker roofied a 2,500 dollar bottle of wine?"

"And sent it to a underage drinker with direction not to tell his parents." They were both quite for a moment as they worked out the ramifications about this. "So what do you want to do?" Spencer asked.

"I don't know. You're the senior agent." Eric replied.

His face was so scared, so hopeful. Spencer took a deep breath. "But you need to know you can protect yourself from men like this." He said. "I have your back, no matter what decision you make."

Eric considered a moment. "Here's what we'll do."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  Okay, so mental note for next year, tell people I'll be gone from December 15th through March 1st, roughly.  Because first comes the holidays, then I get sick, then my partner gets sick, then either the car or the cats get sick (this year it was the car) and on top of it all the weather goes to hell (we had 2 weeks of record snowed-in snow).  And then we spend February recovering.
> 
> Should have warned you all.  Sorry about that.
> 
> Yesterday I woke up and this story decided to finish itself.  I wrote the remaining five chapters in one go.
> 
> Let's see if I can finish the other shorter one this week.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 28**

**Twin Farms  
Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 10**

Later that night a man crept through the darkness to Mill Cottage. He opened the outer door quietly, kicked off his shoes in the mud room, and cautiously opened the inner door. He looked about in the moonlight and then slipped down the hall. He checked every room and then turned and made his way up the stairs.

He was on the third step when the light came on in the kitchen. Eric was standing in the kitchen next to the bottle of wine. "What are you doing?" He asked. He had what he called his innocent face on, his hair combed down, his shoulders slouching.

"Coming to see you." The man, Brooks, answered with a confident smile. He all but swaggered down the steps. "Parents not in tonight?"

"My parents are in Utah."

Brooks looked him over. "Right." His eyes flicked to the bottle still on the counter. "Not tempted by the wine? Kid your age? Come on, your parents will never know."

"My age?"

"Yeah. You're what, nineteen? Twenty?"

Eric didn't answer that. "Why were you checking the bedrooms? You know, going upstairs?"

"I thought you'd already have the party started. I was inviting myself."

"Why would you think that?"

"I put a little extra kick in the wine. You should give it a try." Brooks moved to start opening the bottle.

"You put some drug in the wine?"

"Just a little something to help you relax. Kid your age shouldn't be so uptight."

Eric stepped out of his way, around behind him. "Know what I think?"

"What?" Brooks gave him a little smirk. "What's in that pretty head of yours?"

"You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions." Eric recited. "Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney."

Brooks laughed. "What?"

"Oh yeah, when I told you I'm an FBI agent?" Eric flipped open his ID. At that cue the lights in the rest of the room came on and Spencer turned from his laptop where he had been recording the whole thing. He flipped open his ID as well. Just in time for the red and blue lights on a police cruiser to come on outside. "I wasn't lying. You're under arrest for attempted assault on a Federal Agent, attempted assault on a minor, offering alcohol to a minor..."

"Breaking and entering." Spencer said helpfully. Odds were no one noticed the bit of a quaver in Eric's voice but him.

"Oh yeah, breaking and entering. I'm sure we'll come up with a few more between here and the station." Eric held up his cuffs as two local officers came in, followed by Marie Lancaster. "Not the kink you were looking for tonight, I'm sure. Turn around." Eric's hands were shaking a bit, but he got the cuffs on anyway.

It finally sank in that he was being arrested. Brooks looked monumentally displeased. "My first call will be to my lawyer." He said. "My second will be to your Director."

"Oh good." Spencer said. "Please tell him that Dr. Reid was involved in the arrest."

Brooks looked like he was sucking on a lemon. "My third call will be to Cramer."

"Tell him too." Spencer nodded to Eric to finish the procedure.

"He'll have your badge."

"I doubt he'll even try over this."

"We will have your belongings packed and taken to the airport." Mrs. Lancaster said as Brooks was escorted past her. "I'm afraid you're no longer welcome at our establishment."

Eric stood in the door and watched the local LEO's putting Brooks in the car as Spencer bagged the wine bottle for evidence. "Do you really think he'll call the Director?" He asked as Spencer joined him. "Who's Cramer?"

"Head of our Senate oversight committee."

Eric blanched. "Oh god."

"Don't worry. He already tried to fire me three times. He knows not to try anymore." They watched the car drive off. "You know, once we finish the paperwork it'll be out of our hands. Odds are he won't actually be charged with anything. His lawyer will make a deal that will involve him quietly going home. As a very successful businessman I think he'll take the lawyer's advice and put this incident in the past. We have the recording in case he doesn't. And, you know, certified memory."

"That must come in handy."

"It does." Spencer looked over. "I told you you could handle this, Agent Hoverland. You can protect yourself when you need to. Even against powerful and well connected men."

"Yeah." Eric stood a little straighter. "Guess I can."

* * *

 

_From: Rossi, D  
To: Reid, S_

_You should have arrested him for what he did to that wine._

* * *

 

**Day 11**

"Dave sent us a bottle of wine to replace it." Spencer said.

"Twenty-five hundred dollars worth?" Dr. Walker asked.

"No, two hundred and fifty dollars, about." He smiled. "He said it was in case we needed to celebrate something and that it was special but still drinkable. I think he's crazy."

"Oh, that's nice of him. And then what happened?"

"We went to the station, filled out the paperwork, and had him processed." Spencer replied. "He spent the rest of the night in a holding cell, his lawyer worked a deal, and he was released with no charges provided he leave the county. He did call the Director, who explained to him that going after what he thought was a minor was a serious crime and he was lucky. Apparently Brooks is leaving it alone."

"So Eric was able to stand up for himself."

"Yes."

"I bet that did wonders for his self-esteem."

"It's been a help, I think."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You helped the Prince rescue himself."

Spencer nodded. "It was the right thing to do."

"I know and I agree. But sometimes the right thing for other people isn't the right thing for us."

"Still..."

"You can be honest here. You know I won't share."

Spencer sighed. "I metaphorically shot myself in the foot, didn't I? I could have intervened, arrested Brooks, protected Eric. It was a golden opportunity to save someone without worrying about compromising a case. But it was best for him to do it himself, for him to have that success so I encouraged him to do it. Do you know what that makes me?"

"A good person." Dr. Walker replied.

"Who is never going to get laid." He shook his head. "I wouldn't have done anything differently. I just think the universe it out to get me sometimes."

"You know, all fantasies aside, you could try meeting someone outside of work."

"I...wouldn't even know how."

"It might be time to look at the idea of a surrogate to help you figure that out."

Spencer let out a long sigh. "Great."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 29**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 21**

A week later, late in the day, Spencer was trying some new recipes. Mini muffins, some berry, some onion and cheese. No clue how they were going to taste but they smelled heavenly. Actually they would likely taste all right. In theory at some point cooking and baking would go from a science to an art, when he had enough intrinsic knowledge of what the ingredients tasted like and what they would do, but for now he was still at the science part. It was like copying an experiment step-by-step, a form of learning which was completely different from his work life and which he found quite relaxing. And it made for successful, tasty results.

Baking, he thought, knitting, quilting of all things. Sci-fi and horror. Chess and reading, of course. Swimming and bicycling. He had a list of ways to relax and things to look forward to when he wasn't working now and he loved it. Granted he was still missing one big point but the smaller points were coming together as well as the muffins.

He looked up as Eric came down stairs. "Hey. I'm almost done here and then I'll be ready to go to dinner. We'll have muffins to go with coffee in the morning."

"Great." Eric replied. "Um, I'm not going to dinner."

Well this was new. Spencer looked up. Eric was giving every sign of being nervous, almost fearful. "What's wrong?"

Eric took his time answering, and was not looking at him. "You know that whole surrogate thing?"

Ah. Spencer felt his heart speeding up. Or falling. Or something. It was a disquieting sensation, whatever it was. "Dinner date?" He decided not to look at Eric either. Much easier to talk to the muffins.

"Yeah. I don't know that I'm ready for this."

"So don't go."

"Didn't we have this discussion already?"

"If it's any help I've been discussing the same thing with Dr. Walker."

"Oh?"

"Apparently to top it all I have a bad case of what she's calling White Knight-itis. I tend to fall for the people I rescue. Which is not bad in a fantasy sense but tends to piss off District Attorneys who have to deal with witness tampering charges. The problem being that it's hard to rescue someone who is actually mentally stable outside of the work environment."

"I can see it. Apparently I have trust issues. I keep wanting to trust someone enough to save me, even though I really don't need saving anymore. FBI and all that. I'm supposed to be standing up for myself."

"Understandable. She has a point there." Spencer decided to take his time tidying up the kitchen. Kept him from having to look up. What was his heart _doing_ anyway? Maybe he needed to see a cardiologist.

Spencer could feel Eric studying him for a long moment. Then the softest intake of breath. "Save me."

"Excuse me?" He did not just hear that.

"Dude, you are about the nicest, most trustworthy Senior Agent in the FBI. And she's right, I need to stand up for myself and ask for what I want. So I'm asking. There is an evil, cruel psychopathic surrogate thing coming after me. I want you to save me."

Yep, he needed to see a cardiologist. Spencer started the dishwasher, turned and pulled down two wine glasses. This could not be happening. "You know, the logical step after, ahem, saving you from the dragon out there would take us upstairs to the bedroom."

"I know."

"Where I have exactly no clue what I'm doing." Now where was the corkscrew? There it was.

"I have more than enough knowledge for both of us."

"And if this doesn't work one of us will have to move out." And when did this go from sharing a hotel room to living together? And why were his hands not shaking as he tried to open this bottle of wine?

"I'm willing to take the risk."

The bottle Dave sent was opened. In for a penny, in for 25,000 pennies. "What was this guy's name again?"

"Jim."

"Right." Spencer poured two glasses, picked up one along with his courage and stepped out along the path. Surrogates were professionally certified, and were neither evil nor cruel nor psychopathic. The man walking toward the cottage was a reasonably attractive one in his early 30's. Looked like a history teacher. Was likely very nice and completely harmless. That wasn't the point. "Excuse me, Jim?"

"Yes."

Thankfully he would likely understand. "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. You work with Doctors Walker and Carter, yes?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Well, I am sure they will explain the significance of this tomorrow. Your services aren't needed tonight."

"Excuse me."

"Please don't take this personally and understand that we appreciate what you do and are glad that the option was there and believe your profession deserves the highest respect, but...fuck off." Spencer took a long sip of the wine, and turned back into the cottage, locking the door behind him.

Then he put the wine down, wrapped his hands around the back of Eric's neck, pressed him into the nearest wall, and kissed him like he'd once been kissed in a pool on a hot LA night.

It was _wonderful_.

He's never understood the phrase 'melting into someone's arms' before. But then Eric relaxed and softened and became this perfect, pliable fit against him. Warm and solid and, okay, yes, this is what sexy was.

And when Spencer broke the kiss long enough to look Eric's eyes were _smiling_.

"Hi." He said.

"Hi." Spencer replied.

Dragon vanquished.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 30**

**Twin Farms**   
**Outside Woodstock, VT**   
**Day 21**

The problem was that once past kissing Spencer had no clue. Well, intellectually. He'd been reading, but at the moment that did not help. Although he did know enough to suggest the bedroom, his bedroom for the larger bed. And to bring the wine. Now what? "I have no clue what to do next." Spencer admitted.

Eric was building a fire. "You know, I don't usually take the lead at this point." He admitted.

Okay. Spencer thought he could work with that. "Fair enough. But I'm supposed to be sorting this all out and you're supposed to be standing up for yourself."

"True."

"So teach me something. If you could ask for anything, what would you ask for?"

"To start? A shower. For both of us."

Spencer could see it. "I'll go first." Mostly because Eric was building the fire.

Shower. Hot water on. Clothes off. Wine...there was a space in the shower for wine. One glass was going to be more than enough; it was already going to his head. Get naked, don't think about that or you'll panic, get under the spray, find the soap...

...feel a cold breeze on your back. "I said for both of us." Eric said.

And just like that all the blood drained out of Spencer's head and into where it needed to be. Fixed that dysfunction problem. "How does that work?" He asked.

In reply Eric pulled him into his arms and under the spray and kissed him again.

It was amazing. All warm skin and slippery soap and hands everywhere. And he was used to being touched now, used to touch feeling good and wonderful and he wasn't falling apart. It was being kissed and kissed again and someone nipping at his jaw and finding a nerve that made him shiver, even as hands caressed the small of his back and feeling something that wasn't him against his hip and thinking of what that could do...

"What now?" Spencer asked. It was a request and a command and perhaps a beg. "Show me."

* * *

 

Eric showed him.

He showed him in the shower, and then Spencer riffed and reciprocated.

They were cold when they got out, but the bed was close enough to the fire to be warm. Later Spencer would swear that the fire transmuted lessons into love.

When they were finally exhausted Eric lifted his head from Spencer's shoulders and asked "Where do you want me to sleep?"

"Hmmm?" Spencer opened one eye and looked at him. He was tired and sore and completely, blissfully happy and warm. It took a moment for what Eric was asking, what he was really asking, to kick in. "Sleep where you want."

"Sure?"

"I might be the senior agent here but you're still an agent, remember?"

Eric shook his head a little. "Yeah, sorry. Still working on that. I guess I'm still learning thing."

"So am I."

"Like what?"

"Well." Spencer rolled on his back. "I've learned that I really do like the whole fresh out of the shower, or in the shower, version. I've learned that real mouths are better than plastic ones. I've learned that slow build up is better than edging. I've learned that sex is a thousand times better than getting high."

Eric smiled. "That's a lot of learning."

"Yeah, it is. If you want to stay in this bed with me you are more than welcome. But I reserve the right to cuddle."

Eric smiled and made himself comfortable right there. "Thought you said you didn't know how to do this."

"Always been a fast learner. And, you know, a lot of learning." He rolled and tucked that large, strong, warm body into his arms. "Someone taught me something else pertinent once."

"What's that?"

"Never wait. I love you."

Eric curled in close and buried his head in Spencer's shoulder. "I love you too."

* * *

 

**Day 23**

"So, how do you feel?" Dr. Walker asked.

"Wonderful." Spencer replied. "Amazing. I keep grinning when I think of going to find Eric. I'd rather do my own thing with him in the room then alone, which is entirely new for me. And I'm going to have to start wearing looser pants because I can't stop the reaction I get every time I look at him. And he seems to be feeling the exact same way, which I find utterly mystifying but very satisfying."

Dr. Walker smiled slowly. "Good."

He frowned a little. "This doesn't mean we're done, does it?"

"Have you seen the file I have on you? No. But it bodes very well for the future."

* * *

 

**Day 35**

"There is one problem with this." Eric said.

They had started a tradition, breakfast in bed on Sundays. A thermos of good coffee, a basket of good baked goods, a book on tape or a podcast, and knitting, because quilting risked dropping a needle. Granted there was usually very little knitting. They had broken in to The Box, which tended to come out on Sunday morning, in between news shows.

Spencer decided JJ never needed to know that he finished her baby gift while lolling in bed next to his lover in nothing but pajama pants. "What's that?"

"We're going home in a week."

"Well, we can't stay here and play forever."

"No. It's not that. I want to go back to work and you can't tell me you're not getting bored."

"True." Spencer looked up at the windows. They had seen the glory of fall after all, now it was starting to snow. Snuggling up to your lover in front of a fire while it snowed was remarkably cozy.

"But this means we're going to have to stop living together."

No more coffee and the newspaper on the porch in the morning? No more cooking dinners together? No more going into town to run errands and enjoying it because you weren't alone? No more cozy TV nights on the couch? No more mornings like this? No more nights like last night? "Why? I'd love to keep living with you, if you want to."

"And I'd love to keep living with you. But I don't think either one of us has the room."

Oh. "We can fix that."

Eric looked at him and smiled.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 31**

**Capitol Plaza Apartments**  
Washington DC  
Day 56

"I still can't believe he came back to town and didn't tell us." Penelope said as they climbed the stairs.

"He said he had some stuff he had to get done before he went back." Morgan replied. He was climbing the stairs ahead of her. "I can't blame him for wanting to get his stuff together as well as his head, he was gone a long..." He stopped.

"What is it?" Penelope asked. She stretched up on her toes and peeked.

There was a stranger coming out of Spencer's apartment.

"Excuse me." Morgan said. "We're looking for Dr. Reid?"

"Oh yeah." The woman said. "He moved out."

"Thank you."

"What?!" Penelope exploded as they went back downstairs. "What?! Why? I mean I know this is supposed to be some life changing experience but why leave? Ohhh! You don't think he's leaving leaving, do you?"

"One step at a time. One step at a time." Morgan went over to the front desk and flashed his badge. "Excuse me; did Dr. Reid leave a forwarding address for packages?

"Yes, I believe he did." The clerk said. "Just a moment."

* * *

 

**M Street Apartments  
Washington DC**

A few blocks on the other side of Union Station. A bigger building with better security and a fitness center. Even a pool. And from the distance between the doors bigger apartments. "Finally." Morgan said. "He needed a better place."

"True." Penelope replied. "But why not tell us?"

"Dunno." Morgan knocked.

Sure enough Spencer opened the door, a sweet, bakery scent coming out with him. To their trained eyes he looked one hell of a lot more relaxed than, well, ever. Also about ten needed pounds heavier, although he looked tighter too. "Hi." he said. "Um, how did you find me?"

"FBI remember?" Morgan said as he pushed his way in. "Nice place." It was. Big kitchen, living room beyond it. Looked like a little balcony overlooking the park next door. "Three bedrooms?"

"Two and a den. I'm using it as an office." Spencer replied.

"Nice. Mind if I have a look?" Morgan started being nosy-ish. "We would have helped you move you know."

"Yeah, I hired some kids from Georgetown."

"What smells so good?" Penelope asked.

"Cookies. Loaded blondies, actually. Blondies with dark and white chocolate chips and toasted pecans."

"Oh, those sound evil. We'll bring them with us. Where's your foil?

"Tall cupboard, inside the door. To where?"

"Rossi's house. JJ's been in labor all day; he's cooking while we wait."

Of course Spencer was beaming. "Wait, isn't she early?"

"Only by two weeks. Henry was three weeks early. Those two can't count." She started covering the pan.

"Finally got yourself a nice place." Morgan said.

"Thanks." Spencer replied.

"So get your coat. Let's go."

"Well, I..."

"What?"

"There's this..."

"What?" Spencer was turning bright red and stammering. Whatever it was Morgan started grinning. His friend was so embarrassed. "What?"

All of a sudden the door opened. Someone built a lot like Morgan only very blond came in carrying a bag that smelled like thai food. "Hey gorgeous." He called out. "They didn't have the pad thai you wanted so..." He stopped when he saw Morgan and Penelope.

Morgan looked from him to the furiously blushing Spencer, confusion on his face.

But Penelope was grinning. "Ohhh, that's why you didn't say anything!" She pulled out her phone and started sending a text.

"What did I miss?" Morgan asked.

"Some profiler you are." Penelope swatted him. "He has a key, called him gorgeous, knew what to order. Spency didn't say anything because he moved in with his boyfriend."

Spencer hung his head in admission.

The stranger looked at him. "You are all mind readers." He said.

"I wish." Morgan said. He offered his hand. "Derek Morgan. This is Penelope Garcia. We work with Reid."

"Eric Hoverland." Eric replied as he accepted. "I'm in Andi Swan's unit."

"Oh yeah, you work with Ashley?" Morgan asked.

"I'm her partner."

Morgan turned to Spencer. "At least you're keeping it in the family."

"Okay, Rossi says bring Eric. He's inviting Ashley over." Penelope said. She looked up. "He's cooking. JJ's in labor."

Eric immediately turned and put the take out in the fridge. "I have heard about Dave Rossi's legendary cooking." He said. "I am not turning this down."

"Smart man." Morgan nodded.

Spencer looked around the room. It was this easy. It was going to be just this easy. He had so much love around him. "Get the blondies. I'll get my shoes and coat. Just give us a minute." He took the opportunity to tug Eric into the other room. "So is it true that when you meet each other's families it's serious?"

"As far as I know." Eric replied. "Is that what we're doing?"

"As far as I'm concerned." Spencer found his shoes. "Are you okay with that?"

Eric's smile grew as bright as the sun. "Absolutely. You?"

Spencer didn't even have to think of the answer. He cupped his love's face and kissed him.

And life was wonderful.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am leaving this with a happy ending.  Many thanks to P. for all her feedback.
> 
> Now let's see if I can finish another one before I start something new.  


End file.
